True Targets
by Fire Ceremony
Summary: The characters of Final Fantasy VIII transplanted to the world of 20's horror writer H.P. Lovecraft. Miskatonic University graduate student Squall Leonheart must cope with exam stress, a co-student gone missing and bizarre dreams.
1. Default Chapter

A Final Fantasy VIII / H.P. Lovecraft Cthulhu Mythos & Dreamlands   
cross over story.  
  
FFVIII characters Squall Leonheart, Quistis Trepe, Zell Dincht,   
Selphie Tilmitt, Irvine Kinneas, Rinoa Caraway, Seifer Almasy, Xu   
Yie and Cid Kramer: property of Square.  
  
The names and characters of Arkham, Miskatonic University,   
Miskatonic Valley, Celephais, Leng, Nyarlathotep, Hesper Payne,   
Richard Upton Pickman, Randolph Carter, Dr. Herbert West, Walter   
Gilman, King Kuranes, zoogs and lamp efts: property of Howard   
Phillips Lovecraft's estate.  
  
The name and character of "Cultes des Goules" and Comte d'Erlette as   
well as some dreamlands concepts: property of Chaosium Inc.   
  
The following story is a cross over between the world and characters   
of 1920's horror writer H.P. Lovecraft and the characters of Final   
Fantasy VIII. Concepts and characters were in particular inspired by   
the following of HP Lovecraft's short stories:  
  
"The dreams in the witch-house"  
"The statement of Randolph Carter"  
"Pickman's model"  
"The dream-quest of unknown Kadath"  
"The silver key"  
"Herbert West reanimator"  
"The call of Cthulhu"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
True Targets  
  
  
Part 1  
  
  
  
It was the end of the summer semester. A nervous tension lay over the   
campus of Miscatonic University. The university and faculty libraries   
were filled to capacity with students cramming for the finals. The hot   
and humid weather, unusually hot for mid June, added to the tension   
and created an atmosphere of oppressive reluctance.   
  
I was in the middle of the last review of data necessary for the course   
in hyper-Euclidean geometry, the last obligatory course at the graduate   
studies of parapsychology. The inter disciplinary science of   
parapsychology was my chosen field of study and the sole reason I had   
traveled to the city of Arkham and Miscatonic University in the first   
place. During the year that had passed, my first as a graduate student, I   
had comitted myself intensely to the study of all paranormal   
phenomena known to science, from hauntings to sightings of alien   
beings. I had hounded Professor West for access not only to the library   
belonging to the faculty of Psychology and Parapsychology, but also to   
the small and closed collection of special source literature which the   
faculty had in possession. The volumes in this collection were easily   
the most interesting and accurate of the sources of paranormal activity   
I had found at the university. The ancient tomes not only described   
strange and disturbing fables of distant past and location, but also   
mysterious and inexplicable events taken place right here in Arkham   
city or surrounding towns and areas. These events recorded by hardy   
locals or professional preternaturalists I committed to memory with an   
interest bordering on the manic.   
  
Having been forced to discontinue my private research due to the   
approaching final exams, I had decided to extend the studies over the   
summer, forfeiting travel for staying in Arkham. I expected to arrange   
field trips to neighbouring towns to witness the sites of reported   
paranormal activity by myself. I did not spare much thought to the   
horrors and bottomless fears the poor wretches whose stories I gloated   
at during late nights in the library had been forced to face and which   
by all probability had ended their days or sent them into irreversible   
madness. That I myself would soon face the same horrors and fears did   
not strike me as probable.   
  
I was crossing Library Place early Tuesday morning on my way   
towards the graduate student dormitory, when I heard the sound of   
springy steps trying to catch up with me. I recognized them as   
belonging to my co student Irvine Kinneas. Judging from the smell of   
his breath, he was obviously on his way back to the dorms from a   
night's drunken revelry at some pub or other downtown at either a pre   
exam celebration, exam celebration, post exam celebration, leaving for   
the summer celebration or simply a pre summer party. The moment   
before Kinneas caught up with me, I turned towards him and muttered   
his name. Kinneas stopped, panted alcoholic fumes down into my face   
and said, out of breath:  
  
"Why damn you, Leonheart! How on earth did you know it was me?"   
Then he laughed and slapped my back. I shook my head and walked   
on. Kinneas followed.  
  
"Not on your way to the library to study now are you?" Kinneas said   
after a moment's silence. Living in the room across the corridor from   
mine and belonging to the same small faculty as I did, Kinneas was   
well aware of my nightly schedule when not having to rise early for   
morning lectures. I shook my head.   
  
"Back to the dorms?" he asked, more for conversation's sake than   
anything else. I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ground as we walked   
towards the steepled four story brick building that was our home.   
"Wonderful! Me too! I'm so beat I could sleep for days!" Kinneas   
exclaimed in a semi drunken enthusiasm and did a little hop on the   
ground. We walked on in silence through the purple pre dawn stillness.   
  
As we parted outside our respective rooms, Kinneas faltered.   
"Where is Almasy keeping himself these days?" he asked, quiering   
about my room mate, whom he knew relatively well. "I haven't seen   
him a long while, at least three days." I turned my key in the lock and   
shrugged.   
  
"I have no idea. I haven't seen him for a few days, either. He's not   
been in his room. I just assumed he was with Caraway or one of you   
people." Kinneas shook his head.  
  
"Not that I know of. But what do I know what goes on between him   
and blue dress anyway?" Kinneas smirked, alluding to Almasy's close   
friendship with Rinoa Caraway, one of the female students at our   
faculty. "You don't think he's planning to ditch Professor Mapster's   
course again?" Kinneas speculated. "Seifer's bound to fail if he doesn't   
start doing anything soon. Four dimensional geometry isn't exactly   
easy."  
  
"I have no idea," I commented. "I don't get involved in any of   
Almasy's dubious private affairs." Kinneas grinned at my bad mood.  
"What do you think we'll get served at Thursday's exam?" he asked,   
oblivious of or intentionally ignoring my lack of enthusiasm for the   
conversation. "I bet Prof. Mapster's going give us a punishment of an   
exam which we'll all fail. Except for one or two of us." He grinned   
down at me in obvious mirth at his own wittiness.  
  
"I hope not," I replied. "I have some problems grasping the entire   
concepts myself." Kinneas nodded.   
"Haven't we all? I certainly have. Well, good luck on the preparations   
and I'll see you in "the tomb" tomorrow. Maybe we could help each   
other out with the geometry?" he suggested. I nodded non comittally   
and bade him good night.   
  
Inside my room, I quickly undressed and went to bed, tired after a long   
night's studies. The night was oppressively hot. Even with the window   
fully opened, the air in the room was warm and still. I tossed and   
turned in bed for half an hour, metered out by the quarterly chimes of   
the bell tower at the outskirts of campus, then fell into an uneasy sleep.  
  
I awoke staring at the white curtains at the end of my bed. The faint   
light of the street lamp outside shone through the translucent fabric.   
The curtains moved slightly, but there was no movement of air in the   
room, the night was as windless and silent as earlier. Suddenly an   
intense fear washed over me. The curtains were moving because there   
were someone outside moving them! Transfixed with terror, I stared at   
the window. The curtains shook and were pushed out from the window   
frame. My heart was pounding in my ears. A faltering hand appeared   
in the middle of the window sill, then another. I had a glimpse of dark,   
rubbery skin and large bony knuckles. The sight of the hands broke the   
paralysis that immobilized me, I threw the sheet aside, rushed forward   
and began hitting the hands in the window sill. I was determined that   
whomever was in the middle of entering the room was not going to   
succeed. Searching for something to hit the intruder with, I scanned the   
nearby bedstands. Almasy's large alarm clock, which I had stopped in   
his absence because of its loud ticking, made a decent weapon. I   
grabbed the metal object and pounded it on the hands in the window.   
  
I heard a muffled scream and the noise of the would-be intruder as he   
fell down into the bushes three stories below. I peered down into the   
semi darkness and saw a shadow pick itself up from the ground and   
heard the sound of rustling vegetation as the intruder began moving. I   
turned and bolted for the door, rushed out into the hallway. Then down   
the stairs, taking three at a time and out onto the front steps. I scanned   
the emptiness of Library Place and the lawn and bushes bordering it.   
Empty and not even the branches of the trees were moving. I jumped   
down from the entrance steps onto the lawn in front of the dorm. I   
walked over to the bushes below my window to closer inspect the site   
where the creature had fallen down.   
  
Broken branches and flattened bushes revealed the site of impact. I   
searched for more tangible signs of the creature, but the poor light of   
early dawn made it difficult to investigate. As I picked through the   
broken branches and foliage, a stench rose into the air. The creature   
had left traces of itself after all, tiny pools of greyish slime which   
smelled like a trip down the sewers.   
  
"Pssst!" a noise came from above. I straightened my back and looked   
up. A blond head protruded from my open window.  
"What the hell are you doing, Leonheart?" the voice of Zell Dincht,   
Kinneas's room mate hissed through the quiet night.   
"None of your business!" I hissed back, relieved to recognize the   
voice. Another head appeared.   
"Get back in Leonheart or you'll be thrown out by the matron for   
breaking the curfew." Kinneas. Always eager to offer good advice.   
  
"There is a lighter on my bedstand on your right, throw it down to   
me!" I hissed up at them.  
"Say what?" Dincht asked. I repeated the message. Moments later   
Dincht reappared in the window and threw the lighter down. I caught   
and lit it and began picking through the leaves and branches in the   
hope of finding more traces of my nightly visitor.   
  
The front door creaked and Kinneas and Dincht appeared on the front   
steps. I quickly gathered some leaves and scooped a sample of the grey   
slime onto them, then folded the leaves together in my hand and left   
the lawn.  
"What you got there?" Dincht asked. I walked past him and Kinneas   
and back inside the hall. The door slammed open and my two   
costudents returned to the hall.   
"Is the door locked?" I asked.   
"What? Oh, " Dincht said and returned to the front door to lock it. I   
proceeded to ascend the stairs.   
  
"What the hell happened?" Kinneas asked.   
"Someone tried to get into my room," I replied. "From the window."   
Kinneas exchanged glances with Dincht and snickered.  
"A girl?" Kinneas asked. "Lucky you. She must have been quite   
desperate to risk life and limb climbing three stories to get at you. Do   
you know who it was?" I ignored the stupid question.  
"Whoever it was fell down and left something in the branches below,"   
I said. "I'm going to take a closer look at it tomorrow."  
"Blood?" Kinneas ventured.   
"Doesn't look like it," I said, " but some kind of fluid at least."  
  
We reached our rooms on third floor.   
"Well, good night, gentlemen," I said and took hold of the door,   
preparing to close it.   
"Wait a moment," Kinneas said. "Are you sure you're going back in   
there? What if whoever tried to get into your room comes back? You   
said so yourself you didn't know who it was." I grimaced at them.   
"Don't be ridiculous."  
"You can sleep in our room tonight if you want to," Dincht offered. I   
shook my head.   
"It's all right."  
"When are you going to look at the stuff you found," Kinneas asked.   
"Can we come too?"  
  
"Chemistry lab at 2 pm tomorrow," I replied. "We can have a look   
then." I knew there was no way I would manage to get rid of these two   
unless they were allowed to come along. Dincht and Kinneas filed into   
their own room.   
"Well, see you then and good night. Don't let the bed bugs bite,"   
Dincht snickered, taking hold of the door.   
"Good night," I replied and closed my door. I walked over to the open   
window and scanned the darkness below where the creature had fallen   
before closing the window. With the window shut, the room would   
become almost unbearably hot, but it would beat sleeping with it open   
by a long shot.  



	2. True Targets part 2

  
  
True Targets  
  
  
part 2  
  
  
  
  
  
The rest of the night passed with unexpected ease and the morning   
arrived with the same cloud free sky and oppressive heat as the day   
before.   
  
Waking early, I got up, washed, dressed and headed to the library.   
After a couple of hours' attempted insight into the secrets of hyper   
Euclidean geometry I went to the White Hart coffee shop on campus   
for a cup of coffee and some company other than the books. Watching   
the heated and slightly nervous crowd of young students served as a   
reminder of how distant I felt. Miscatonic University offered all the   
traditional science and liberal arts courses of major universities, but her   
specialities were psychology, parapsychology and studies in   
comparative anthropology and religion associated with the latter. The   
university produced a small but steady stream of parapsychologists and   
investigators of paranormal phenomena and was famous for it.  
  
The special courses attracted dedicated and industrious students who   
were allowed to decide the direction of their graduate education very   
much according to their personal interests and ambitions. Thus, the   
students of parapsychology were known to have a high degree of   
personal initiative and a solid work ethic. But they were nevertheless   
usually regarded with suspicion and dislike among the other students.   
Parapsychology naturally attracted students who were interested in the   
stranger and darker sides of existence, which most people shunned or   
regarded with fear and disbelief. Thus, the parapsychology students   
kept mostly to themselves and few were a part of the university in   
crowd. Some notable exceptions were my room mate Seifer Almasy   
and Irvine Kinneas across the hall. They were both popular among a   
large group of students arranging cross faculty parties, initiation rituals   
of freshmen and leisure trips the countryside. I usually stayed away   
from the brouhaha of such gatherings, preferring to study and explore   
the local paranormal history of the town and area on my own.   
  
Taking in the breakfast crowd with little more than a cursory interest, I   
drank my coffee and then began fighting my way through the throng to   
reach the door. But before getting that far, I heard someone call my   
name.   
  
"Squall! Squall!" I turned towards the direction of the call. Selphie   
Tilmitt, one of Kinneas's many admirers and one of the few whose   
interest he seemed to reciprocate, stretched out one thin arm and   
waved at me. Tilmitt was one of those people who was in a perpetually   
good mood no matter what happened and seemed to regard everyone   
with an openness and gentleness I couldn't but wonder where came   
from. Her temper and personality clashed oddly with her chosen study;   
comparative religion at the faculty of Parapsychology, and her true   
interest; the history of magic and witchcraft. Kinneas had once   
mentioned she had pulled off some interesting tricks for him, but when   
I asked for more details, he had grown uncharacteristically quiet. Since   
then I had tried to fish more information about Selphie's "tricks" from   
Kinneas, but he always seemed to avoid the subject. I wondered what   
Tilmitt had done to scare someone as sceptical and down to earth as   
Kinneas.   
  
Tilmitt was accompanied by her close friends, a small crowd of female   
students which she was seldomly seen without; Quistis Trepe, master   
graduate mathematician at the faculty and teaching fellow with Prof.   
Mapster, Rinoa Caraway, student of comparative anthropology at the   
faculty of Parapsychology and Xu Yie, student of chemistry at the   
Institute of Chemistry. It was rumored that Caraway's father was a   
high ranking officer out of Boston and that Trepe's family had ties   
with the Rockefellers in New York, but I had no idea if any of those   
rumors were true. None of the girls were personal friends but students I   
had come to meet on many occasions due to their studentship at the   
faculty and familiarity with Kinneas and Almasy.   
  
"Hi Squall," Selphie greeted as I managed to get over to her and her   
friends. I nodded at them. Caraway exchanged glances with Quistis   
and smiled. "Hi Squall!" they greeted and grinned at each other,   
obviously humored by my presence.   
  
"I'm rather in a hurry," I told them, eager to leave the crowded hot   
room and the giggling girls. "My final's in two days and I'm really   
behind schedule." More female giggling. Selphie took hold of my arm.   
  
"We're not going keep you for long. It's just that Irvine told me you   
had found something interesting last night and was going to have a   
look at it in the chem lab this afternoon. We wondered if we could   
come too." Oh no, I thought. Kinneas and his big mouth. I should have   
known he would broadcast the meeting at the laboratory to all of his   
friends. I was glad I had been short on detail last night.   
  
"There's probably not much to see at all," I tried. Tilmitt tugged at my   
sleeve and did a little curtsy of eagerness.   
"Pleeeeaaase, Leonheart," she begged. "It's been so long since   
something interesting has happened here. Seems like all we have done   
the last three weeks is cram cram cram and I'm so sick of it. It's no fun   
when it gets that much." Tilmitt smoothed down the front of her   
yellow dress and looked at me.   
  
"All right," I said, suspecting resistance was pointless. "As long as you   
don't get in my way. Be at the chem lab at 2 pm. And don't bring   
anyone else, ok?"  
"Thank you, thank you!" Selphie exclaimed and threw herself around   
my neck to give me a hug. "You're the best! A moment away from the   
boring cramming, I can't wait!" I gently freed myslef from her grip.   
  
"Well, I'll see you there then. I have some more work to do before 2   
o'clock."  
"Irvine told us someone had tried to get into your room and then fell   
down from the window, " Quistis said. "Who was it ?"  
"I honestly don't know," I told her. Tilmitt giggled.  
"I bet it was Seifer trying to get back in after curfew."  
"Maybe," I shrugged, not wanting to reveal any more details of what   
had happened last night.   
  
"Where has he been lately?" Caraway asked. I looked at her.   
"I assumed he was with you," I told her. She shook her head.  
"No, I haven't seen him since last Friday." I scratched my head.   
"I have no idea where he might be then. He's left no message in our   
room." Caraway exchanged another glance with Trepe and Tilmitt, this   
time one of concern. "Well, I have to run," I told them and began   
heading for the door once more. "See you at 2 pm. And don't spread   
the word." The girls nodded.  
"See you."  
  
Returning to the warm library and the long rows of bookshelves and   
green shaded brass lamps, I enjoyed the relative quiet and the   
absorbing power of hyper Euclidean theory. But it didn't take much   
time before I was stuck at a particularly difficult problem which I   
wasn't able to solve. I decided to ask Trepe for help with it later in the   
afternoon. Exchanging hyper Euclidean geometry with classical Greek   
and Egyptian theory on Atlantis and Lemuria, some of my favorite   
myths, I settled down into one of the library's easy chairs and began   
reading. The room, although spacious and ventilated, was stuffy and   
warm and I soon felt my eyelids grow heavy and my chin bobbing   
towards my chest.   
  
There were a pair of stone stairs leading down. Gingerly, I stepped   
onto the stairs and began following them as they spiraled downwards. I   
passed some narrow Gothic windows filled with sunlight. Then there   
was a wooden door with a heavy brass knob shaped like a lion's head.   
I used the lion's head to open the door and stepped outside. The sound   
of seagulls and water lapping against land. I walked out of the tower   
and out onto a long stone pier. Tall ships from every imaginable   
nationality and era, from seventeenth century galleons to Egyptian   
straw barges to blue eyed Phoenician wooden ships lay at the pier. The   
ships seemed to be either in the process of having their cargo unloaded   
or being restocked with goods and supplies for the next trip across the   
ocean. I approached a white ship with lemon colored sails. On an   
impulse, I crossed the gangway to enter the ship and handed seven   
golden coins to the bearded and turbaned men standing by the helm.   
They bowed and bade me welcome. There was something strange with   
the way they moved and there was an odd glint in their dark eyes, but   
the ocean breeze flapped gayly through the yellow sails and made me   
forget any suspicions or fears.  
  
Finally the ship disembarked accompanied by a short fanfare of a sea   
conch by one of the turbaned men. The ship slowly gained speed and   
left the harbor. I looked back and saw the white washed stone   
buildings and rounded domes of a Greek port. The sky was bright blue   
and there was hardly a cloud in the sky, a gentle ocean breeze made the   
temperature near ideal.   
  
Days passed. I was relieved to be out of Miscatonic valley and its   
oppressive summer heat. The ocean seemed endless. The sails and ship   
creaked in the gentle movements. I didn't know where the ship was   
bound, but that seemed to matter less. I enjoyed the freedom of the   
impromptu trip. But one afternoon, the sky grew dark and the ocean   
restless. White foam appeared on the waves and the boat, now seeming   
hopelessly small on the endless ocean, bobbed up and down on the   
angered element. Soon the wind howled and the lemon sails strained   
against the storm. A horrible tearing noise and the entire ship shook.   
The main mast now broken in the middle and the storm gathering   
momentum. Several of the turbaned men crawled out onto the broken   
mast in the icy wind and raging sea to try and prevent what was left of   
the main sail to overturn the ship. They all perished in the wind and the   
waves and now the ship was adrift. No anchor and no sail and the night   
was black and starless and there seemed to be no end to the storm. A   
sudden wave overturned the ship, and all travelers and crew ended up   
in the freezing ocean.   
  
Giving up relatively quickly, my swimming abilities no match for the   
raging sea, I sank beneath the surface. The cold water burned my face   
and hands and ears and taking the initiative out of all planned motion.   
Everything turned black, there was no light reaching these depths. I fell   
and fell through the darkness. Right before exchanging my last breath   
for cold water, I spotted a faint green glow through the darkness. An   
outline of something resembling the skyline of a city appeared in front   
of me. I marveled at the sight. A sunken city?   
  
"Squall! Squall! Wake up!" Ignoring the call, I rushed up from the   
chair, fell down onto the warm wooden floor, coughing violently.   
Heaving and twisting, I worked to rid my lungs of water while at the   
same time trying to draw some air into them. My mouth was filled   
with the taste of brine. When the torrent of coughing finally passed I   
struggled to my feet.   
  
"Jesus almighty, are you all right?" Kinneas queried with a concerned   
look on his face. I took a deep breath and nodded.   
"You're drenched!" Tilmitt said and pulled a handkerchief out of one   
dress pocket, holding the handkerchief out to me.  
"Thanks," I said and took the offered item. The inside of my shirt was   
soaked with sweat as were my hair and face. The air felt almost   
impossible to breathe. I began wiping my face and brow with the   
handkerchief.   
"I need some air," I said and began moving.   
  
Outside on the front stairs, a gentle afternoon breeze had started up,   
but the air was as warm as inside. It felt like standing in front of a   
heater. I went over to the water fountain and put my head under the   
slow trickle of water.   
  
"Umm, you're not supposed to do that," Tilmitt reminded me. "It's for   
drinking only." I didn't reply and continued drenching my head and   
hair and neck. The water felt wonderfully cooling even after the chill   
of the dream. I could breathe again.  
  
"What on earth happened?" Kinneas asked. I looked up at him.  
"A dream," I said, straightening. "Just a dream." Kinneas's brows   
drew together in a strained line above his eyes.   
"Just a dream? You looked as if you were drowning."  
"Exactly," I told him. "I dreamed I was drowning." I wiped drops of   
water from my face.   
  
"But you were coughing up water when you woke up!" Tilmitt insisted   
with a quick downward motion of her hands.   
"I did?" I asked innocently. Tilmitt looked at Kinneas for   
confirmation. He nodded.  
"Yes, you did."  
  
"It was a strange dream," I said, setting my eyes on the yellowish blue   
sky behind them. Was there no end to the heatwave? When would we   
get some rain to clear the humid air? "I think it was a case of a dream   
reality shift. I've never experienced that before, so I'm not sure of   
course."  
"Dream reality shift?" Tilmitt asked, obviously not recognizing the   
term from the first year. I nodded.  
  
"Reality intruding onto dreams," I said. "Strange event but has been   
described by other workers. I will have to look it up in the library later   
on." The thought of returning to the stuffy air of the library didn't   
seem tempting right then and there.  
  
"Really?" Kinneas asked, eyes shining. "Which reality? Ours?"  
"I don't think so. It seemed more like a mythical one. Tall ships and a   
strange trading port. I had been reading about Atlantis and Lemuria   
before I fell asleep, so maybe it was caused by that."  
"I say..." Kinneas commented. "That's something."  
"I don't want to talk about it," I said. "It was just a dream. Most   
probably brought on by the reading." I looked at them. "What time is   
it? I need to be at the chem lab by 2."  
"That's what we came to get you for," Selphie said. "It's half past   
already. Quistis, Rinoa, Zell and Xu are waiting at the lab. Xu secured   
the keys from teaching assistant Johnstone."  
"Ok, let's go."  
  
Outside the chemistry lab, Quistis, Yie, Caraway, Dincht and teaching   
assistant Johnston were waiting for us. As we arrived, Johnstone   
turned to me.   
  
"Is it you Leonheart who wants off course access to the lab?" she   
asked. I nodded. "And what kind of experiments do you plan to   
conduct?"  
"Just some simple tissue tests, if it's ok," I asked. Johnstone looked at   
me sceptically.   
"I'm not sure if I'm going to let you in. I'm responsible for the chem   
lab in Prof. West's absence. Bossman is not going to like it if there is a   
problem and I have let you in without his permission."  
  
"Well, I'm going to be working here all summer at any rate," Yie said.   
"I can take responsibility for the access. We can call it pre   
investigations for my summer project. I already know what I want to   
do, so I don't need to do that many tests. I can sign the log if you   
want."  
  
Teaching assistent Johnston nodded.   
"Ok," she said. "I'll buy that. Sign the log and I'll explain to bossman   
you wanted a head start if he asks. Just don't let him see Leonheart and   
the others in there. Bossman will be back at around 6, so you've got a   
few hours to spend. What kind of tissue are you going to test?" she   
asked.   
"Not sure yet," I replied. "But it may be ghoul tissue. I just want to   
make sure." Johnstone made a quick glance into the ceiling.  
"I hope you parapsych students know what you're doing," she said   
before leaving. "It's all in your hands, Xu."  
"I know. Thanks," Yie said.   
  
The chemistry lab was rows upon rows of lab benches, each having a   
deep basin with a faucet, a small cuboard underneath and a rag hanging   
by the side of the bench. Tall stools now placed upside down on each   
bench provided seats during the lab courses. The back wall of the long   
and narrow room held cupboards filled with beakers, funnels,   
measuring cylinders, thermometers, distillation equipment, bunsen   
burners and chemicals, liquid and dry. The air was stuffy and almost   
immobile after weeks of emptiness, dust danced in the afternoon light   
coming in from the long windows.  
  
I carefully unwrapped the dry leaves I had brought and reconstituted   
the grey material into a glass beaker by pouring a thin stream of   
distilled water over them. I picked up some more beakers from the   
cupboards along with the necessary chemicals. A quick acid-base   
titration and comparison from a chart on a hand written note, the   
species tissue acidity matching that of "ghoul"; supernatural eater of   
the dead, haunters of cemeteries and places of storage of dead bodies   
and not alive in the usual sense themselves either. I let Yie do a test   
with identical result. Then it was 5.30 pm and time to leave.   
  
  
"Let's go for supper everyone!" Tilmitt suggested as we headed out of   
the lab. "The White Hart offers grilled cheese sandwhiches, pasta   
ravioli and mushroom pizza today. And raspberry sorbet or chocolate   
cake for dessert with free coffee."  
  
"Good idea," Dincht said. "I'm starved by watching you guys work."   
Yie locked the lab door and then we were on our way. The talk was   
eager and upbeat now that an interesting result had arrived at and   
supper had been decided upon. I tried to quell the slight concern I was   
feeling. It would soon be dark.   
  
"Well. I'll see you later," I said.  
"What?" Tilmitt asked. "Where are you going?"   
"Not coming with us?" Kinneas asked. "Why not Leonheart? Come   
on, it'll be fun and the food is good." About to serve him one of my   
usual I-need-to-work lies, I was taken with a momentary lapse of   
truthfulness.  
  
"I can't afford it," I said. "I don't have any money until I get first   
payment of my summer job next month."  
"That's ok," Dincht said. "I owe you something for letting me copy   
your lecture notes in Prof. DeGougnier's class all semester. It's on   
me." I shook my head.  
"That's very kind of you, Dincht, but I can't accept it. I would have   
gone to the lectures at any rate."  
"Regard it as a small loan, then," Dincht said and tugged at my sleeve.   
"Come on, it's time to get something to eat." Humiliated but hungry, I   
relented.  
  
On the way across campus, amid talk of the possible ghoul roaming the   
university grounds and the exam parties planned, Caraway nudged my   
hand.   
  
"Heard anything from Seifer yet?" she asked. I shook my head.   
"No, I'm sorry. But he may be in the dorms sleeping. I haven't been   
there today."  
"Oh. I'll check later. Thanks." Rinoa looked down.   
"I'll let him know you wish to see him when he returns..." I began but   
was interrupted by a fear I did not want to acknowledge, half formed in   
my mind, like a forgotten word coming into memory. Quickly pushing   
it aside, I shook my head. Rinoa looked at me.  
  
"Is something the matter, Squall?"   
"No, nothing." I felt the palms of my hands go slick.   
"What... what color is Seifer's wristwatch, by the way? Do you   
know?"  
"Pardon?" Rinoa asked. "What colors is Seifer's what?"  
"The leather strap on Almasy's wristwatch."  
"Off white, I think," Rinoa replied. "Why ?"  
"... I think I saw his watch in the room," I said quickly. "He was   
looking for it the last time I saw him. I'll take care of it until he comes   
back."   
  
Through a haze of confusion, I saw Rinoa smile at me. In another   
situation I would have tried conversing with her some more, but I was   
too distracted. My head was starting to hurt. If this was correct, who   
could I possibly turn to? No one would believe me. Perhaps with the   
exception of Prof. West. I would try talk with him. But to present any   
kind of problem to him, I would need more evidence. I decided to hope   
Almasy would have returned when I came back to the dorms after   
supper. But how many people wore off white leather wristwatch   
straps?   
  
At the White Hart, meal was ordered and served. I passively let Dincht   
pay for me as he had offered and left it at that. My head was hurting   
and my thoughts were racing, robbing me of initiative and personal   
pride. The conversation turned to discussions of what questions could   
be expected at the exams and whether or not people had done the   
necessary preparations if the expected questions came up. I was hungry   
but apart from feeling the fatigue that had weighed me down the last   
weeks loosening its grip, I found little pleasure in the rich meal and the   
conversation did nothing to reassure me of my own problems. After   
supper, I quickly excused myself and picked up my bag and jacket.   
The restaurant was beginning to grow uncomfortably hot and the noise   
of the supper crowd was bothering my ears and aching head. I thanked   
Dincht for the meal, promising to pay him back at the end of next   
month when my wages arrived.   
  
"Going back to the dorms?" Kinneas asked. I nodded. "All right," he   
said. "I'm going back too, got to take it easy tonight, tomorrow is a big   
day, second but last final exam. I need my beauty sleep." He grinned   
and grabbed his jacket.   
"See you tomorrow," Tilmitt said. "You have to tell me how it went."  
"I'll talk your ears full," Kinneas said and grinned.   
"Bye-bye."  
"See you tomorrow."  
  
Kinneas walked next to me. I rubbed my eyes. The sun was sitting at   
the horizon but the evening breeze which the valley usually saw was   
absent.  
  
"Is everything all right with you?" Irvine asked. I nodded.  
"Yes it is." Silence. The sound of gravel beneath our shoes.   
"Excuse me for asking, but.. what happened at the library?" I looked at   
him.  
"Like I said, a dream crossing with reality, and turning into reality, a   
kind of dream reality."   
  
"But what causes such dreams?" he asked. I shrugged.   
"Nobody knows for certain I think. Dr. Carter describes it in his work.   
I think I have seen a few others mention it too, Comte d'Erlette among   
a few, but no one seems to be able to offer a good explanation for it.   
Maybe it's just the time of the year and the exams and the heat," I   
suggested. Irvine nodded and didn't say anything more. We continued   
on to the dorms, entered the shady hall and began climbing the stairs.   
At our doors, we stopped.   
  
"Well, if you need anything, just knock at our door. Zell and I are right   
here in case.. well, you know, in case the intruder comes back or you   
have another one of those drowning dreams." I nodded.  
"Not likely. Cross reality dreams only happen once, maximum twice in   
a person's life time. Same with burglars I suppose. I guess I was really   
unlucky. But thanks. I might need some advice for the geometry on   
Thursday."  
"My pleasure," Kinneas commented with a grin. "Let's meet here   
tomorrow at 1 pm to do the last reviews. Quistis may be able to give us   
a few tips too if we go to her office."  
"Ok, tomorrow at 1 pm then. See you."  
"See you."  
  
When the door had shut behind me, I set my bag on the floor, went into   
the bathroom, filled my glass with water from the faucet and began   
searching the top shelf of the bathroom cupboard for the sachet of   
aspirin I hoped was there. "Please let there be one left," I muttered.   
There was. Relieved, I ripped off the top of the sachet and dumped the   
contents into the glass, swirled the powder a few times to let it dissolve   
and downed the water in a few hasty gulps.   
  
Sitting down on my bed, I removed the tie and shirt, intending to sleep   
a few hours before returning to my studies. I grabbed Almasy's alarm   
clock from the opposite bedstand, wound it and set the alarm at 3 am. I   
hoped the headache would disappear after some sleep. Then I lay down   
on the bed and closed my eyes.  



	3. True Targets part 3

  
  
True Targets part 3  
  
  
  
  
Sleep came quickly and contained no clear dreams. At 3 am, the alarm   
clock broke the silence with a painfully loud ringing. I startled and sat   
up and fumbled for the clock in the darkness to switch it off. Some   
cold water in the face in the bathroom, some water from the glass, then   
I grabbed my jacket and bag and headed for the door.   
  
The corridor was empty and quiet, my steps resounding as I walked   
down to the entrance. I slowly opened the doors to the night outside. It   
was another quiet night, no sound, not even from crickets. The   
temperature was markedly lower than earlier and the night air served   
wipe some of the sweat from my brow and back. I crossed the graveled   
Library Place and walked to the faculty entrance. Using the key I had   
borrowed from Prof. West, I locked myself into the Faculty of   
Parapsychology. I shut and locked the door, then navigating by the   
street light shining in through the windows, I followed the dark   
corridor to the right to a set of double doors. I stopped in front of the   
doors to the small faculty library, my favorite study place, to get the   
key out. The lock was broken, one door rattling on the latch. After a   
moment's consideration, I slowly pushed the door open, praying it had   
been tended to recently and did not creak. Not a sound.   
  
Through the tall windows overlooking the park behind the faculty   
building, the streetlamps lit the library with a silvery weak light. The   
quiet rows of bookshelves cast long shadows on the smooth linoleum   
floor. From further inside the library, I heard scraping noises. I set the   
bag and jacket gently down on the floor, opened the door as much as   
was needed and slipped inside. Burglars in the library? Not too likely.   
Someone had broken into the library and I had a strong feeling it was   
no coincidence.   
  
I walked silently closer to source of the noise which I recognized as   
that of paper being ripped. Behind the ripping and rattling noise, a   
strange, high pitched tittering could be heard. I closed in on the noise   
and hunched down to avoid being seen. Blood was flowing swiftly and   
freely through my ears, interfering with my hearing. There, behind the   
shelves three rows down and further into the room a lone figure was   
standing hunched over a bookshelf. The person was leafing through   
one book, while a heap of torn and crumpled books and magazines lay   
by his feet. The shelf next to him contained overturned magazine   
boxes and loose sheets of paper. In between leafing through the   
journals, the intruder occasionally tore pages out of them, crumpled the   
sheets and threw them away, before quickly grabbing a new from the   
shelves next to it. The creature seemed to pick journals and books from   
the shelves at random, but I could be wrong.   
  
The creature itself was stooped but taller than me by a head, covered   
with sparse but matted dark fur, had strange looking hind feet and a   
long, canine head with small naked ears sitting at the side of the head.   
It looked like a combination of a large bipedal dog and a particularly   
ugly pig. The creature carried with it the smell of decomposition from   
the grave. There was something perversely familiar with the way it   
hunched over the book it was leafing which made the sight a distinctly   
disturbing one. The remnants of light colored fabric hung in tatters on   
its back, a mocking hint of the attire it had worn as a human being.   
  
As I watched frozen in disgust and horror, a suspicion turned to   
maddening certainty. I strained to get a better glimpse of the creature's   
face and moved closer. The creature turned its back to me to grab   
another journal from the bookshelf behind it. As it turned towards me   
again to utilize the light from the windows, I got a better look at the   
creature's face. Not even the canine features and pathcy uneven fur   
covering the head could obscure the familiarity of it. Before I had a   
chance to stop myself, I heard my own voice say: "Almasy? Is that   
you?"  
  
The creature threw itself around and hunched down into a defensive   
posture. I realized I had made a mistake. A low growl rose from the   
ghoul. Even from a distance of more than five yards, the scent coming   
from it was almost unbearable, the stench of rotting flesh and fat earth.   
More surprised than I was aware of, I raised right hand in a calming   
gesture.   
  
"Easy... it's me, Leonheart... your room mate..." The creature snarled   
and suddenly sprang forward. I threw my arms up in front of my chest   
to protect myself. In a flurry of dark fur, white fangs and mortuary   
stench, I was banged into the bookshelf behind me. Strong hands   
closed around my neck. I tried to wrestle the hands away by pulling at   
the rough wrists, but it was useless, the creature was much stronger   
than me. I began choking under the pressure of the strong hands.   
Almasy lifted me up, held me at arm's length and shook me like a rag   
doll. Pain and nausea shot through my throat and jaw and blue and   
yellow vortices began forming in front of my eyes.   
  
"Almasy," I gasped. "Don't... you remember me? You're... second in   
class... behind... me." The creature mouthed a loud snarl. Stinking   
spittle rained over my face. A reaction. "Oh... by the way...," I   
continued. "C-C-Caraway... asks... for you. She was... wondering   
where... you were." I tried piping in air to my fading consciousness   
but the restricting hands were too strong, holding my neck in a vice.   
But then the shaking stopped and the hold loosened. I sucked in air as   
hard as I could. Something felt as if it had been knocked loose inside   
my throat. I would have to repair that afterwards. Another growl and   
shake, then I fell to the floor in a heap.   
  
I desperately tried to massage some life into my throat and getting   
some more air, gasping and coughing. I received a good kick to the   
belly, which knocked the air out of me. There were some swift   
movements past my face, then steps across the floor. Coughing and   
pushing the pain of my burning throat aside, I scrambled to get to my   
feet. Bumping into bookshelves and battling hard with the tilting room,   
I went after Almasy.   
  
Stumbling out into the dark hallway, I could see a swift shadow flitter   
across the silver light on the floor.  
  
"Almasy!" I yelled and had to stop to cough. My throat felt like it was   
filled with glass shards and my belly was burning. "Almasy! Come   
back! Professor West... can help you!" Silence. Then the sound of   
rushing air next to me. Hot, stinking breath. Glowing red eyes and a   
growling sound next to my face.  
"Leonheart. Stop following me," The words were barely   
intelligible behind the growls and panting stinking breath. I was   
nevertheless compelled to listen closely to the speaker. "Or I will rip   
the limbs from your body and eat them one by one. This is none of   
your business. Stay out!" I was about to reply when Almasy lashed out   
with one clawed hand. The strike hit me in the forehead. It felt like my   
skull split in two and the room instantly began wildly turning this way   
and that. I felt the floor falling upwards to meet me, then everything   
faded out of view.  
  
I awoke in a puddle of my own blood. Head wounds, even superficial   
bleed profusely. The hallway was dark and silent, but I sunrise   
couldn't be far away. Feeling nauseous and with a burning throbbing   
head, I managed to get up on my knees. Blood dripped down from my   
forehead onto the floor. "Damn," I whispered. My lips felt swollen and   
I was thirsty and sick as the same time. I had to get back to the dorms.   
I would rest and then report to Professor West later in the day. There   
would of course be a big commotion when the nightwatchman or   
janitor discovered that the library had been broken into.   
  
Wanting to get away before the nightwatchman appeared, I struggled   
to feet which felt like they had joints of jelly. I looked around. My   
jacket and bag was still where I had left them, by the library doors. I   
weighed the pain and discomfort of walking back the few meters to   
retrieve them, which would allow a day of undisturbed rest, against the   
very real possibility I would not make it out of the building with the   
added distance and be caught here and have a commotion on my hands   
with no chance for rest first. The thought of a day's rest before the   
raucus started won and I shambled over to the library doors. Out of   
breath already, I hung onto the door for a little while, pressing   
Tilmitt's handkerchief against my forehead to stop the bleeding. Then I   
slowly and painfully picked the bag and jacket up and started at what   
seemed like thirty kilometers instead if thirty yards out of the building,   
across Library Place and back into the dorms.   
  
My expectation of a day's uninterrupted rest was brought to shame at a   
quarter to twelve when a loud banging was heard on my door. I   
decided to try and ignore the banging, but then I heard a key turn in the   
lock. I looked up to see who was locking themselves in. Raijin   
Peterson, one of Almasy's closest friends and earning his college   
degree while working as nightwatchman at the faculty entered the   
room. He was followed by a tall policeman, Kinneas, Dincht and Fujin,   
Peterson's girlfriend. I looked at them, still feeling too poorly to get up   
and most of all wishing they would disappear into thin air so I could   
return to sleep and continue healing myself. Peterson swaggered over   
to me.   
  
"Here he is officer. Now arrest him."  
"Jesus mother of God, did you run into a truck or something?" Dincht   
asked. I shook my head, but stopped. My head felt like it was filled   
with rotten blood, throbbing and aching and shaking it made it feel   
worse. I would need a lot more sleep to get rid of the concussion   
Almasy had given me.   
  
"Mr. Squall Leonheart?" The officer asked. I nodded once. "There has   
been a break in and vandalism of the library of Faculty of   
Parapsychology. The police is carrying out an investigation. You were   
one of the students having access to the library off hours. We need you   
to follow us to the Dean's office so we can get some understanding of   
what happened." I swallowed.   
"I had a key, why would I need to break into the library when I could   
just have locked myself in?" I asked, more to get information than   
anything else.   
"I must insist you come with me, Mr. Leonheart so we can talk," the   
police officer said. "There was blood on the floor and signs of a   
struggle outside the library and you look like you just came home from   
a fight." I made a sigh of resignation.The upset face of Raijin peered at   
me over the policeman's shoulder.   
  
"You know something about this don't you?" he growled. "I can smell   
it on you. You Parapsych students are all alike, creepy and sick ghouls   
who have nothing else to do but sneak around libraries at night. And   
you're the worst of the them. I've seen you lots of times there, don't   
try and pretend it isn't true."   
"Yeah, you're creepy," Peterson's girlfriend piped up. I massaged my   
face with my hands.  
"I assume just because you think someone is creepy that is enough to   
make you think they are criminals too," I commented sourly. Raijin   
reached out and slapped my shoulder. The vibrations of the slap sent   
waves of pain and nausea through my head and body and I lay back in   
the pillows.  
"Officer, can't you see he's injured?" Kinneas asked.   
"I just need some sleep," I protested.  
"You're right son, " the policeman said. "We'd better get him to the   
doctor's."  
  
Dr. Crowton, head of the campus medical center, shone a strong light   
into my eyes with the metal disc he had on a band around his head.   
Then he held out his hand and waved it front of me.   
"Looks like your eyes are focusing," he said, sounding pleased. I lay   
down on the examination bench again, not liking to sit up for long   
because of dizziness and nausea.  
"You will have a scar, but you'll be all right again," Dr. Crowton   
informed me. "You're having a concussion, but it'll pass in a few days.   
In the mean time I strongly recommend you take it easy and have   
someone watch over you while you sleep the next twenty four hours.   
Do you have a room mate whom could stay with you? I know it's   
finals and everything but..." I shook my head.   
  
"My room mate's already gone home for the summer," I lied.   
"Then what about someone else, girlfriend or friends?"  
"Try Dincht and Kinneas at room 367, Faculty of Psychology and   
Parapsychology graduate dorms. They live across the hallway from   
me."  
"Good," Dr. Crowton said. "I'll go and call matron and have them   
come down to fetch you right away. You should take it easy for a   
while. I will of course see to that you're excempt from any exam you   
should have had in the three next days."  
"I'll be all right tomorrow. I just need to sleep today," I told him.   
"Dincht and Kinneas won't be in until later tonight. They're both   
having exams now and preparing for another tomorrow."  
  
"I see," the doctor said. "I will notify matron all the same and she will   
inform your friends when they return from the libraries. In the mean   
time, you can stay here and rest. You really shouldn't sleep   
unsupervised when having a concussion. It was very unwise of you to   
go back to the dorms alone after having been in a fight." I shrugged.  
"I'll be all right," I told him.  
"Now, now, that's my line." I looked up at the doctor, who was less   
than five years my senior. He grinned down at me. I smiled against my   
will.   
"Ok, here's a blanket for you and I will come back in an hour to check   
on you," the doctor said, handing me a grey wool blanket which would   
more than keep me warm in the summer heat. "There'll be hourly   
check ups, so you'll have to get accustomed to that." I nodded and took   
the blanket. I longed to go to sleep and continue healing up. I just   
hoped I would have none of the dreams I had had the previous day. I   
had an exam tomorrow to think about as well. Almasy and the library   
problem would have to wait.  
  
Dincht and Kinneas appeared at 7 pm and followed me back to the   
dorms. When I started for the door to my room, Dincht put a hand on   
my arm.   
"You're coming with us. You sleep in my bed and I'll take   
your mattress on the floor." I was about to protest when Kinneas   
interjected.   
"Listen to him, Leonheart. It'll be easier for all of us. Besides, we   
don't want to get up and into the corridor every hour to check on you.   
It's easier if you're in our room and we can terrorize you there."   
Lacking the power to resist I nodded.  
"Ok, just let me go and have a shower and I'll go to bed in your room   
right away."   
"Certainly, but don't faint in there or we'll have to come and fish you   
out in your birthday suit," Kinneas grinned. I grimaced at him.  
  
In the bathroom I peeled off a sweaty and bloody shirt and dirty pants,   
relieved to get them off. I ran the water cool and entered the shower.   
The water felt relieving and relaxing, loosening the tension and   
carrying away the excess heat in my body. I tried to massage my sore   
muscles and hurting head but the water burned whenever it came in   
direct contact with the wound on my forehead. I turned off the faucet   
and began drying with the towel. The afternoon's sleep had already   
served to make me feel much better than I had in the morning and I   
decided to have a quick shave before going to bed.   
While shaving I had a chance to take a good look at the wound   
Almasy had given me. The slash of his claws had drawn a long wound   
forming a thin line going from the left side of my forehead, crossing   
the bridge of my nose and reaching down to the right eye. In addition,   
the concussion had caused black patches to form beneath my eyes   
because of internal bleeding. My throat had blue bruises on the front   
and was still sore. I cursed. It would take me longer to heal than I had   
thought.  
  
After having rinsed the shaving cream off my face, I went into the   
room, pulled out my drawer and found a pair of clean pyjamas pants. I   
changed into them and crossed the hallway to Kinneas and Dincht's   
room. Dincht had brought my mattress into their room and put it on the   
floor between the two beds. He was sitting on one bed cutting cheese   
on a platter on the bedstand. He motioned to the opposite bed with one   
arm and bowed.  
  
"The bed is ready for you, master. All you need is climb in and we'll   
tuck you in and kiss you good night." He grinned at me.  
"And wake you again in one hour to make certain you haven't died,"   
Kinneas added. "Doctor's orders."  
"Hnh, I'll take both of you one arm on the back here and now," I   
challenged smiling. Dincht made an o with his mouth in mock surprise,   
laughed and and turned to his room mate.   
"Someone needs to put his cheese where his mouth is. I say it's time   
for you to go straight to bed mister!" He got up and lunged for me. I   
dodged, jumped up into the bed and pushed him back with one leg on   
his chest. The slow kick served to unbalance me on the soft mattress   
and Kinneas used the opportunity to take hold of me from the floor.   
  
"Quick, grab his legs and we'll get him in there!" he laughed,   
struggling to hold onto me. Zell grabbed my legs and together they put   
me down on the opposite bed. While fighting against their hold, I   
banged my jaw on Kinneas's shoulder, sending me into waves of   
nausea. I stopped struggling and lay down, put one arm over my eyes   
and growled.  
"Damn." Kinneas and Dincht stopped jostling and let go of me.  
"Awfully sorry about that," Kinneas said.  
"Accident," I told him. "Never mind." They both sat down on the other   
bed while I did my best to suppress the nausea.  
"How are you feeling?" Dincht asked.   
"Like hell," I said. "Stupid Almasy never knows when to quit."   
Silence. Damn. Why didn't I ever learn to keep my mouth shut?  
  
"Almasy?" Dincht asked. "So it was he you had a run in with?" I   
looked at him and nodded. Kinneas knotted his brows.   
"What on earth for? Where is he by the way? Rinoa asked for him   
today and I said we still hadn't seen him. I'm getting worried. He's   
been gone for five days. That's some bloody binge. I think we need to   
report the guy missing, unless matron has gotten word where he is."   
"Maybe he couldn't face the exams and went back to his parents?"   
Dincht suggested. "That has happened before."  
"I don't know," I said. "I have to talk with Prof. West before I can talk   
with anyone else. You can regard Almasy as missing I think. I can't   
say anything more, I'm sorry."  
  
"You didn't... do anything to him, did you?" Dincht ventured.   
"Do anything?" I asked looking up at him. "Like what?"  
"Like hurt him real bad." Dincht looked down. "Everyone knew you   
and he weren't exactly friends and that you've both got a solid temper   
when the mood hits you." I let out a little laugh and shook my head. So   
this was what my class mates thought of me, a pugilist and   
troublemaker. It hurt a bit.  
"No, I didn't hurt him, he hurt me," I protested. "He nearly killed me   
dammit." I shook my head again. "Stone cold mad he is."  
"So what happened exactly ?" Kinneas asked.   
"He tried to strangle me and then, when I went after him, he slashed   
me in the head."  
"But why did he try to strangle you in the first place?" I looked at   
Kinneas.   
  
"Forget Almasy," I said. "He's not the person you knew for now.   
Forget him, ok? I can't say anything more. I have to see Professor   
West first. He's the only person who can clear up this mess, so please   
don't ask me about anything more. I'm not even sure what happened   
myself." Kinneas and Dincht didn't reply. Hoping they understood I   
bade them good night, pulled the blanket over me and tried to go sleep,   
refusing to continue the conversation with Kinneas and Dincht or   
wrestle with the thousand and one questions I had in my mind. My   
head was still throbbing and hurting, I needed rest from the current   
situation. Before sleep reached me I heard my room mates talk in quiet   
voices while they clanked the cheese knife on the china platter by the   
window.   
  
I woke by the sound of my room mates dressing and preparing to leave   
for the day. I sat up in bed and threw the blanket aside.   
"Where are you going?" Kinneas asked, climbing over the mattress on   
the floor to grab a sock on the other bed.  
"I'm getting up," I said. "I haven't worked so hard for that exam to   
skip it today."  
"You were in a fight yesterday, remember?" Dincht commented. "And   
was injured."  
"I feel much better now. Very well in fact." I stood and stretched. My   
belly muscles weren't hurting any more and the dizziness was gone.   
  
"You look much better," Kinneas commented.  
"Yes, he's lost the panda face," Dincht laughed, referring to my   
bruised eyes. I picked up a piece of cheese from the platter on the   
bedstand and threw it at him.   
"Careful!" Dincht laughed. "That's the only food we have left. It's   
your breakfast. Help yourself if you're hungry." I looked down on the   
platter. Not having eaten in more than thirty hours, the thought of   
breakfast seemed tempting. I sat down on the bed and ate a few pieces   
of the cheese left. The cheese had a pretty characteristic smell but   
tasted far better than its scent suggested.  
"Rather good cheese," I commented. "It stinks!"  
"Takes one to know one," Kinneas grinned. "Here, we saved this for   
you as well." He threw something soft at me which bounced off my   
chest and landed on the bed next to me. A piece of white bread. I   
hadn't had that for breakfast in three months since my allowance ran   
out. I tore off a piece of bread and stuffed it in my mouth. Even a day   
old, the bread tasted wonderful. I chewed and felt grateful for the   
thoughtfulness of my co-students.  
  
After the improvised meal, I changed into clean clothes, grabbed a few   
pens in my room and headed off to the exam hall together with Irvine   
and Zell. In the small lecture hall mainly used for graduate study   
lectures at the faculty, Professor Mapster was waiting for everyone to   
arrive. The tension in the air was palpable. The course in hyper   
Eucledian geometry was the last and the most difficult of the   
obligatory courses of the parapsychology graduate program, hyper   
Eucledian geometry forming the basis for understanding the   
movements and behaviors of certain paranormal objects in space and   
time, Everyone had to pass to hope to receive their diploma and the   
exam was usually far from easy. Adding to it the course being heavy   
on theoretical mathematics made the course the least popular of all the   
graduate courses at the faculty.  
  
Zell and Irvine walked a few aisles up in the long room and sat down   
on the wooden chairs. I followed suit and placed myself a few seats   
away from them, at the end of the row. I folded the writing pad out and   
waited. As the clock approached 8.15, the room began filling up with   
students who distributed themselves evenly on the room's three tiers.   
Then Professor Mapster began passing around sheets of ruled paper   
and grey surplus paper to the students.   
  
"Finally, what you have all been looking forward to with great   
expectation... and great fear this term," Professor Mapster said,   
holding up a stack of typed paper. He grinned while he handed the   
exam questions out. "You have exactly four hours to complete the   
exam. You're allowed to take a break in that period, but I'll keep an   
eye on you. Don't worry, it's not as bad as you imagine. You have all   
been studying hard and should be able to make it. If you have any   
questions to the exam, don't hesitate to ask and I shall see if I'm   
allowed or merciful enough to answer them. Good luck everyone!" A   
few students muttered their thanks, some with and some without a   
sarcastic tone.   
  
The white sheet of paper landed on my desk. I took it, scanned the five   
questions and chose the best sequence in which to begin solving the   
problems. I welcomed the mental challenge of the exam, it was   
something to do to keep my thoughts away from the current host of   
troubles.   
  
Time passed. One of the questions I could hardly answer at all, having   
not had the chance to talk to Quistis about the finer points of Tore's   
Theorem, one of the more specialized off shoots of hyper Eucledian   
geometrical theory. The other problems were solveable. Four hours   
later, I walked down the aisle to hand in my answer to the exam   
problems. Professor Mapster nodded when I put the stack of papers on   
the desk and wished me a good summer.   
  
"Any chance Professor West is in his office right now?" I asked.   
Professor Mapster looked at me over his round rimmed glasses. He   
was British and was somewhat feared among the students becase of his   
wit and keen sense of humor. He extended left arm and peered down at   
his wristwatch.   
"Yes, I think so if you've got fast legs," he replied. "Then you can   
probably just catch him before he leaves for lunch." Like I had done   
with everyone else the last three days, I checked the color of the   
leather strap of his wristwatch. Brown. Professor Mapster looked up at   
me. "Well, don't just stand there waiting for the starter's shot, run   
along now." Thanking him, I hurried out of the cool and shady lecture   
hall and into the brilliance of the corridor outside.   
  
"That concludes my summary of the events the last few days," I said   
and looked stiffly up at Professor West. "I would be very grateful if I   
could receive some advice about how to proceed from here. I have few   
ideas how to solve the current situation." I waited anxiously for his   
response. Professor West chewed on one end of his pencil.   
"A most unusual case, I would say," he began. I felt some small   
muscles in my knees begin to give way out of relief. Professor West   
believed me. I waited some more. "And you are certain of the identity   
of the ghoul in the library." I nodded.   
"I am certain. He responded when I called his name and I easily   
recognized him."   
"Hmm, most unusual. There have been some reported and confirmed   
cases of wilful transformation to ghouls in Boston and Arkham the last   
few years. Dr. Carter wrote a lenghty and fascinating report about it, it   
should be in the library. Well, it should be there unless it was   
destroyed by the intruder of course." I nodded. I knew the report   
Professor West was referring to by heart.   
  
"I told him there would be help, a cure." I looked down. "That is   
correct, isn't it? There is a way to reverse the transformation?"   
Professor West looked at me.  
"What on earth made you believe that?" he asked. I felt some more of   
my knee muscles begin to give way. My head begun to pound again.  
"I seem to remember a comment about that in Dr. Carter's report," I   
muttered weakly.   
"So you have read it?" Prof. West asked. I nodded. "To be honest, I do   
not remember the report in detail, even though the events it describes   
happened quite recently and commanded a lot of attention in the realm   
of parapsychological research when it was published." I felt my knees   
begin to tremble.   
"But d'Erlette mentions something of "bringing the dead eaters back"   
in "Cultes des Goules", doesn't he? With "definite mastery of true and   
potent magick"?"  
"Yes, that is true," Prof. West replied. "You seem to have done a lot of   
research on the subject on your own."  
"I have been planning on writing my thesis on local paranormal   
phenomena from the past, try and give them a modern interpretation," I   
told him. "Beginning in the fall. Dr. Carter's report was a centerpiece   
of interest since it was recent and highly interesting. "Cultes des   
Goules" was a natural companion source since Dr. Carter cites much   
of his comments from the book."   
  
"Good choice," Prof. West commended. "You are absolutely right and   
there should be lots of material to take hold of, but to be honest, I have   
always regarded d'Erlette's writings to be the kind which appeared   
long before the dawn of medical and paranormal science and with   
reason has never properly tested. His theories on resurrection and   
necromancy may very well be genial, but they are still from a time   
when parapsychology was guesswork and superstition more than   
anything else. I did have some ideas about it many years ago, as a   
recently graduated medical student, and wished to test some of his   
theories. Nothing came out of it of course, the subject of resurrection   
and necromancy being highly controversial even among workers of   
parapsychology. No one has ever witnessed the resurrection of a living   
creature, much less a human and personally, I doubt it is at all   
possible."  
"Even with representations such as hyper Euclidean geometrical   
patterns as foci for time-space change?" I queried. Prof. West smiled.  
  
"Perhaps not. Some interesting results may well come of that.   
However, to get back to your original question, yes it may be possible   
to reanimate a corpse for a limited amount of time by adding life   
energy to the dead flesh, but to reverse the undead state of a ghoul   
would require something else. How would it be possible to remove the   
death energy and at the same time successfully add life energy into the   
poor creature? I also suspect the decomposition of the body would   
make sustained life for the ghoul impossible unless the entire body was   
in some way completely remade." I looked down, suddenly feeling   
dizzy.  
"I understand." I fought back tears before continuing. "Thank you for   
your help, Professor West. I'm very relieved you believe me. What   
will happen with the library now?"  
  
"I believe you, Leonheart, don't worry. Stranger things have happened   
at Miskatonic University and we are ready to deal with any and all   
paranormal situations. I shall explain the situation to Dean Kramer and   
we'll see what we can do about the police investigation. I think it   
should be possible to persuade the Dean to end the police investigation   
since we now know who the intruder was." I felt a nerve in my face   
twitch.   
"Thank you, Professor West," I said. "I am indebted to you. I feel   
somewhat responsible for the break in of the library... having been   
there."  
"There is no need to. You had no way of knowing there would be a   
ghoul there. Don't worry. I of course understand your concern for your   
room mate. I will notify the police that he is missing. Then we need to   
think about what to do with that matter. Personally, maybe the best   
option is to leave things as they are for now. There isn't much we can   
do but I will check some sources on my own, just to be on the safe   
side."   
"But if Almasy is a ghoul, he will be at the cemetery, won't he? We   
could find him there," I asked.  
  
Professor West looked at me.   
"I do not think such speculations are fruitful Mr. Leonheart. Granted,   
Dr. Carter gained contact with ghouls through his associate Richard   
Upton Pickman who became transformed by a ghoul himself, but   
remember Dr. Carter was in a rather special situation at that time.   
Seeking out ghouls is not without risk, as you have experienced   
yourself. After all, they do feed on human and animal flesh." Professor   
West gave me a sharp look. "Your friend is no longer human. If we are   
to believe Dr. Carter, he is not alone, there are those who will take care   
of him. I would strongly advice you leave him alone." That seemed to   
be Professor Wests final words in the matter and I decided not to press   
my luck any further. I nodded and thanked the professor for his time   
and advice. Then I exited his dimly lit office and walked out into the   
searing mid day sun.  
  
The day passed. I was called to Dean Kramer's office after lunch and   
he told me Professor West had informed him about the intruder and   
that the police investigation had been stopped. Relieved, I gave him a   
full report of what had happened. Before I was allowed to leave, Dean   
Kramer gave me a stern warning against seeking out my former room   
mate.   
  
I honestly wished to follow the advice of my teachers and seniors, all   
rational thought supported by my uncle's research indicated the same   
thing. Ghouls were to be left alone, only studied at a distance but never   
interacted with directly, unless they created trouble for humans by   
interfering with their lives first. That was the general rule when it came   
to dealing with all paranormal beings and doubly true for those who   
lived in close proximity to humans since interfering with their   
existence could bring trouble to the curious human and society   
surrounding him. These were the maxims of parapsychology; study,   
information and when necessary: defense, not manipulation or   
interaction. Parapsychology accepted the existence of what was   
previously seen as mythical creatures, but was adamant to keep a clear   
line between the existence of other beings and those of humans.   
  
I was uncertain how closely my uncle had followed these maxims. He   
seemed to have been too curious about the other worlds and the   
existences of other beings to not try to interact with them in order to   
gain information. To one extent that had brought him to the end of his   
life, but as I saw it, it was better to act than do nothing when human   
lives were interfered with and threatened by the activities of other   
beings. My uncle had not been above restricting the length of certain   
beings' existences as well, if his life or those of other human beings   
were threatened, his private notes indicated that. I felt I now had to   
start down the path of my famed relative, for better or for worse. I had   
come to the point where I could no longer stand and watch, it was high   
time to act.   
  



	4. True Targets part 4

  
  
  
  
  
  
True Targets part 5  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I felt relieved hearing the police investigation was closed. It meant a   
general quieting down of the activities surrounding the library break in   
and the disappearance of Almasy. It also meant the end of attention   
around my own person, which was something I needed and wanted. I   
spent the rest of the day in the faculty collection, searching for certain   
chronicles of my uncle's and checking specific passages of Liber   
Ivonis, intentionally avoiding returning to my room and bumping into   
any of Almasy's friends in the dorms.   
  
When the sun had been exchanged for the moon, I found myself at   
Arkham's large cemetery, armed with a few memorized passages from   
Liber Ivonis, a powerful torch, a coil of rope, a small knife with a   
retractable blade and a reliable lighter. I didn't know what to expect,   
but thought too much preparation would hinder improvisation once the   
events got underway as I expected they would and deemed it better to   
be loose and responsive than clinging tightly to a fixed plan. The night   
was dead quiet. As the previous nights, there was no wind, the   
temperature had decreased from that of the day, but it was still warm.   
The heat made the stars look distant and weak but the moon was large   
and yellow like a harvest moon.   
  
The quiet cemetery lay in darkness. Except for the lamps in the streets   
bounding the cemetery, there was nothing illuminating the area. Large   
and profusely growing trees and bushes dominated the small city of the   
dead. What kind of unnameable resources nourished these plants I   
preferred to keep out of my mind.   
  
I retraced a path I had walked three weeks before to the older section   
of the graveyard and the moss covered and crumbling giant   
gravestones and mausolea dedicated to Arkham's rich of the past.   
Aided by the torch and memory, I had no problems finding the simple   
granite slab lying level with the ground bearing the inscription "Hesper   
Payne, 1686-1732". Hesper Payne, accused of witchcraft and   
fraternizing with the devil in 1732, sentenced to death by crushing of   
stones the same year, but who had mysteriously disappeared from her   
cell a few days before the sentence was to be carried out. All that had   
been found in the cell was an oddly angled symbol on the floor, which   
was erased as soon as Cotton Mather, the leader of the witch   
investigations, had taken a look at it. Payne was never seen again.   
  
In the old days symbols had to be drawn for a gate to be effective,   
spells had to be chanted, the site sprinkled with blood or holy water in   
elaborate rituals in methods that were haphazard at best. But modern   
parapsychology had worked out that the symbols, sounds, patterns and   
gestures were nothing but focal points to guide the mind of the person   
performing the ritual to will movement of energy and objects between   
different planes. Hyper Euclidean geometry was one of the sciences   
which had solved some of the mysteries about such movement. Direct   
and applied parapsychology were other such sciences and knowledge   
from all of them were at my disposal.   
  
By visualizing a memorized hyper Euclidean geometrical pattern to   
concentrate on as an abstract pointer for the summoning, I began to set   
up the gate. After spotting her in dreams, Hesper Payne had appeared   
from interdimensional space using one of her crude geometrical gates   
in an attempt to bind me for purposes unknown. Hesper Payne never   
left Arkham, she merely went into hiding and kept spying on the town   
which she regarded as her own. From time to time she would contact   
and call men which she drew to her. The last time that had happened   
was four years ago when Walter Gilman disappeared in Payne's old   
home at King street. But knowing the paranormal history of the town I   
knew who I was dealing with when discovering her and avoided falling   
in her trap.   
  
A summoning spell carried a great risk, Payne was certain to desire   
revenge for the humiliation of being summoned and then bound as was   
my intention to do to her but I wasn't afraid. I had methods to banish   
her from this and the neighbouring planes forever and she knew it.   
Five yards in front of me, above the stone slab which covered Hesper   
Payne's mock grave, a memorial she nevertheless was emotionally   
attached to because of her thirst for revenge on her jurors and thus an   
appropriate location for summoning her, a greenish glow appeared. As   
I focused my mind on the pattern I had prepared the light increased in   
strength. The summoning would soon be complete.   
  
"Nice job, Leonheart," a voice growled behind me. I turned quickly   
but not fast enough. A heavy blow hit me in the chest and knocked me   
sprawling on the ground. I gasped for air and trying to open the painful   
knot in my chest, my eyes filled with tears and blurred my vision. But   
the voice had been enough to identify my assailant as Almasy, I didn't   
need to see him to be certain of that. I quickly pulled the knife out   
from the right pocket and released the short blade from its casing,   
keeping it close to my body. With strained breath I struggled to my   
knees to face Almasy.   
  
He looked even more ragged and gaunt than last time, his limbs having   
turned to nothing but matted fur and bones and his face being little   
more than a domed forehead, short snout and small dark eyes, having   
nearly lost all traces of humanity. I guessed the changes were caused   
by the death process he had been through. He now truly looked like a   
reanimated corpse. My surprise and disgust must have been visible,   
because suddenly Almasy began to laugh.  
  
"Not proud of your work, are you Leonheart?" He grabbed hold of my   
jacket front, leaned down and breathed into my face. "Take a good   
look because it'll be the last thing you'll see in this life." I didn't wait   
for his move but quickly extended my right hand to drive the knife into   
his left arm. He howled and instinctively lashed out. I reeled   
backwards but held the knife out in front of me. Another blow and I   
ended up on my back but by concentration and luck, managed to hang   
onto the blade. He was over me in an instant but I had the knife ready   
and slashed him again, this time in the belly.   
  
He retracted for a moment, clutching his stomach. I scrambled up and   
closed in to try to get another hit. But it had been a feint, suddenly he   
grabbed my right wrist with both hands and twisted it. I yelled and let   
go of the knife, the pain too sudden and too strong to be suppressed.   
Almasy put one claw around my throat and began squeezing. I knew I   
would not be able to talk my way out of it this time. Almasy wanted   
revenge and it was too close for him to be reminded of human   
sensitivities now.  
  
"Enjoy your death, Leonheart," Almasy growled. "I'll be waiting for   
you on the other side and give you a lesson in the life of the undead." I   
fumbled in my pocket for the lighter. Where was it? My fingers felt   
stiff and uncontrollable and I was beginning to become tempted by the   
idea of giving in to the drowsiness which was clouding my mind.   
Distantly, I felt Almasy shake me once and thought "this is it". But at   
that moment, my fingers grasped the square metal of the lighter and   
that gave me hope. With unseeing eyes I pulled the lighter out, flicked   
it open and lit it. Then I held it against Almasy's side. The moment a   
cloying darkness began to envelop my consciousness, I saw a   
flickering yellow light in front of me. Almasy's flesh was burning. He   
let go of me and pulled backward but I fell with him and we both   
ended up on the ground. I held onto Almasy and kept the small fire of   
the lighter close to him. He bellowed as his left arm caught fire and   
began to burn with preternatural speed. I pulled away from him.  
  
"Give it up, Almasy and I'll get you home," I panted. "Believe me, you   
can be cured!"  
He looked up at me, both arms on fire and the flames spreading to his   
shoulders and chest, no longer caring whether he was burning or not.  
"Was that the only thing I was to you?" he asked with a tremor of   
sadness in his thick voice. "Your big experiment? A test for your smart   
spells? You were aware of my family's history and knew that Payne   
would easily trap me once you deflected her attention to me, using the   
heritable elements to her advantage. I had no way of resisting her   
binding spells . You let me take your place in her snares. You knew   
this would happen! I'm not the monster here. You are."  
  
"I'm sorry," I said. "Please come with me and we can work this out.   
I'm sure there is a cure to be found." His only reply was a bitter laugh.   
Then the flames on his body died down as suddenly as they had   
appeared. I steeled myself and tried to concentrate.  
  
The shadowy form of Hesper Payne appeared next to us, a billowing   
form of impenetrable darkness and a pair of malevolently glowing eyes   
hovering above the tall grass. She extended one hand and passed it   
over Almasy's face.   
"Sleep," she commanded and his dark and smoking form fell to the   
ground. Then she looked up to face me. Her form seemed to stretch   
out.  
"Boy sorceror. Thinking you could best Hesper Payne." She laughed.   
Her rasping voice was carried through multiple dimensions and had a   
strange echoing quality to it. I didn't reply, but kept concentrating on   
the binding pattern I had secured for her in the hope that there was   
enough time for the pattern to be activated.  
  
"You and he were easy catches," she continued. "So eager for power   
and so blind. You certainly are your forefathers' descendants. Men,   
how easily seduced by their own power and arrogance they are." She   
laughed again and looked back at Almasy's immoveable form on the   
ground behind her. The pattern ready, I stretched out my mind to   
include her in it. She looked up.  
  
"Your magic, not bad because of your blood. But your deflecting spell   
never worked. Instead I decided to take the sacrifice you offered and   
come for you afterwards." Shutting her venomous remarks out, I   
increased the strength of my concentration, focused on the pattern to   
the exclusion of all else and reached out for her mind again. This time I   
managed to take hold of her but only momentaily before icy pain shot   
though my head, breaking my concentration completely.   
  
"Stupid boy, never knowing when to give up," she hissed. "You will   
be a good catch when you're dead." She lifted one hand in some kind   
of signal. Numerous shadows appeared from the bushes separating   
each headstone around us. Some of the shadows seemed to appear   
right out of the earth itself. The air filled with the stench of the grave   
and the sound of tittering and growling voices. I looked around. About   
ten ghouls were closing in on me. Hesper Payne's shadowy form faded   
into the darkness. I saw a pair of ghouls bend over Almasy and pick   
him up. Then a blow hit me at the back of the neck and I knew no   
more.   
  
Lemon sails and the creaking of wood against wood. The sound of air   
straining sail tarpaulin and water rushing past the bough. The smell of   
salt water and good weather. The gentle movements of the ocean. I   
was back at the ship.   
  
I recognized the ship, the bearded and turbaned crew and even some of   
the other passengers onboard. Time again became drawn out into an   
infinity of warm and lazy days on an open and featureless sea under a   
generously blue sky. I spent the time conversing with the passengers   
and learning some of their stories and destinations. I even asked one of   
the crew where were headed.  
  
"The Plateu of Leng," was the reply. Then the turbaned man turned   
away and walked over to his shipmates and entered conversation with   
them. I asked the other passengers about our destination while trying   
not to appear too ignorant about our destination. Most of the   
passengers seemed to be going to Leng to trade some kind of object or   
other which had a name but one I didn't understand. I decided that   
Leng was a trading port of some kind, much like the city we had   
departed from and most were headed to Leng to sell the wares they had   
bought there.   
  
I received a strange flutelike instrument from a gaunt blackskinned   
passenger who seemed for a time strangely curious about my presence   
on the ship. In order to gain some peace from his incessant and   
sometimes unanswearable questions, I begged the flute of him under   
the excuse of being bored and wanting to learn to play it.   
  
"By all means, take the flute," the black man said. "But beware, it's a   
lamp eft flute."  
"What does it do ?" I asked.  
"The flute emits vibrations which are particularly harmonious to lamp   
efts, causing them to follow you wherever you go. You are strong, it   
shouldn't be particularly difficult for you to befriend a couple of them   
and keep them alive." The black man grinned at me and handed me the   
slim wooden instrument. "Try it if you dare, but only after nightfall,"   
he added with a wink. Then he got up and disappeared into the   
doorway leading to the cabins.   
  
I watched the endless sea and the endless blue sky until forgetfulness   
overcame me. Then it became dark and white stars filled the sky with   
extraordinary, unearthly brilliance as if the distant suns were closer to   
us here than they were in the waking world. I looked down at the flute   
in my hand debating with myself whether I should take the chance of   
testing it or not. I didn't know what a lamp eft was and whether it   
would represent a danger for the ship. But I had a feeling I knew how   
the dream would end no matter what I did, so I put the flute to my lips   
and blew into it. The flute produced a thin clicking sound, not the   
melodious tone I was expecting. It was a dry but startlingly loud noise   
which seemed to increase in strength as it spread into the air before   
finally dying out in a whisper.   
  
After a few minutes, several lights appeared some ways off starboard   
side, white orbs of light moving up and down in the air. A high pitched   
vibrating noise could be heard as the lights grew closer to the ship's   
side and soon a melodious whistling, not unlike that of birds could be   
heard.  
  
"Lamp efts approaching! Hurrah!" a female passenger with long green   
hair, the most outrageous hair color I had seen in my life, shouted and   
laughed. An elongated creature with a flattened newt like tail appeared   
in the air next to her. On top of its narrow head were two enormous   
eyes occasionally producing a beam of intensely bright white light. As   
the creature moved its body through the air, undulating like a fish   
swimming in water, the light beams from its eyes moved and played   
over the deck. Soon another light creature appeared, then another,   
swinging their eye beams back and forth as they moved in the air. The   
creatures' flanks held a row of bright spots, one on each annulum of   
the body. These spots changed color, and the sequence of light passing   
down the body changed in rhythm with the general motion of the   
animal. When the animal moved slower in the air, the lights on the   
flanks changed less quickly, when the animal seemed to be roused by   
the promiximity of other efts or humans, the bright spots lighted in   
quick sucession along the animal's sides.   
  
Several of the passengers came out to watch the efts and their   
improvised light show. The lamp efts seemed to enjoy having an   
audience and accompanied the performance with a flute like   
monotonous song which was strangely calming. I watched the   
movements of the lamp efts for a long time, marveling at their graceful   
movement through the air and the hypnotic blinking of lights on their   
sides until I fell asleep on the ship's deck.   
  
Then it was day again and the storm broke loose. Knowing what lay   
ahead, I stayed in my bunk being violently seasick and nervously   
awaiting the sinking. When the sickening ripping sound of the main   
mast breaking reverberated through the ship, I went outside. As the   
ship turned and I hit the water, I had time for one last draw of breath.   
Then I began sinking, pulled down by the raging sea and the sinking   
ship. I concentrated on a bright spot inside my mind, imagined it the   
eyes of a lamp eft and tried to remember their montonous and calming   
song. I fell through the water with great speed as if I were trapped in a   
strong current leading down into the Stygian depths.   
  
I had air left when the light at the surface was but a faint memory   
above and a subtle green glow appeared in the darkness below me. I   
looked around and became astonished. As I had glimpsed in the   
previous dream, I was at the bottom of the sea looking down on the   
skyline of an entire sunken city. Through the blackness and silhouetted   
against the green glow that seemed to come from the buildings   
themselves I could make out the shapes of towers, a few bridges and   
numerous smaller buildings. There was indeed a current present and it   
seemed to pull me quickly towards a specific structure, a twisting and   
oddly shaped tower in the middle of the city. I had the sensation of   
someone calling my name over and over again. Then I ran out of air   
and gasped my last breath into the black infinity of deep ocean.   
  
I watched the treeline above me sway in an unfelt breeze. The sky held   
the bruised violet of dawn. From far away I heard the morning chatter   
of birds sitting inside the vegetation of the cemetery. I was lying on the   
ground by Hesper Payne's slab. I turned and vomited up the water that   
had gotten into my lungs. It wasn't half as frightening now that I knew   
what to expect, but it was still scary and painful. The salt water burned   
in my chest. I was soaking wet and still cold.   
  
"Tough trip?" someone asked. I flinched and looked up, expecting a   
vengeful Almasy. A hunched shadow rose from the headstone it had   
been sitting on. A ghoul, but much larger and gaunter than Almasy and   
being clad in nothing but a few rags, obviously not being Almasy. In   
the predawn light, something blinked on its face. A pair of round   
spectacles were sitting at the ghoul's nose. I stared at the ghoul.  
  
"Allow me to introduce myself," the ghoul said. "My name is, or rather   
was, Richard Upton Pickman. Your uncle was a close friend of mine   
and we traversed the dreamlands together many times. Boy, I had   
never expected to meet his nephew. But I can see that you are your   
uncle's blood and travel the dreamlands as easily as he did."  
  
"Pleased to meet you," was the only thing which came to my mind. I   
strained my tired head to try and understand what had happened.   
Dreamlands? Ghouls? Uncle Randolph? I coughed to get rid of the last   
bothersome drops of water from my lungs.   
"How do you know Carter was my uncle?" I asked. The ghoul grinned   
at me, baring a mouthful of yellow but finger long canine like teeth, a   
fairly unsettling sight.  
"I can smell your kind, too curious for your own good."  
  
I looked at him, wondering if this was true. As if the ghoul had read   
my mind, he quickly added: "Not really. I had a debt to Carter I never   
had the chance to pay, so I kept an eye on his family after he died.   
Didn't look like I ever would get the chance to repay him, but then I   
heard his nephew had started at Miskatonic and knew the time had   
come. If Carter's nephew was half as curious as his uncle, he'd land   
himself in paranormal trouble sooner or later out of the studies he   
would see at Miskatonic. But never had I expected you to get into the   
mess you have." I looked down, not knowing what to say.  
  
"I guess your debt is paid now since you got rid of the other ghouls and   
Hester for me," I finally said. The ghoul grinned.  
"I reckon I did although convincing the others to leave you here   
despite Payne's orders wasn't too difficult. She had bound us and   
being bound is always a source for revolt. She is a royal pain in the ass,   
thinking we're her personal servants, demanding us to do this and that   
for her with no right other than the strength of her magic," he confided.   
"She has no respect and certainly no love for us ghouls and that is   
reciprocal. The others recognized you as Carter's blood kin too, so   
they were quite curious to see what kind of fellow you were and   
wanted to let you live. No, it was more difficult to keep your friend   
away from you. He is young and still somewhat human. He won't esily   
forget what he thinks you have taken away from him, his life as a   
human being."  
  
"I... I didn't think the masking spell would work," I stuttered, taking   
the ghouls rebuke. "I didn't think Payne actually would confuse him   
for me and I certainly didn't know she would change him into a   
ghoul."  
"But you did want someone else to take your place with Payne," Upton   
countered. "You weren't too eager to become her target, were you?"  
"No I wasn't," I admitted. "I wanted things to stay the way they were   
for a while longer. I couldn't face it, not when I had a way of trying to   
prevent it. And I was so certain if something happened to Almasy,   
there would be a way to mend it, one way or another," I muttered. The   
ghoul made another grin and shrugged.   
"It's human I guess. No one wants to be a target and be hunted down   
by ghosts and other beings. And maybe someone will find a way to   
reverse the ghoulish condition some day. Your uncle used to think so.   
But until then, we ghouls have our own ways and our own lives to tend   
to."  
  
"You will take care of Almasy, won't you ?" I asked, hearing my own   
voice tremble. "Even if he was created by Payne? You'll take him in   
like the others did with you that time when uncle Randolph met you?"   
The ghoul sighed and looked at me with a stern gaze, but not without   
some humor.   
"Yes, of course we will. He is one of us now. But he will be out for   
revenge, at least for the years ahead, so you should watch your back.   
Frankly, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes now, having one vengeful   
ghoul after me and Hesper's big hit on Arkham to look forward to   
tonight." I looked at him.  
  
"Big hit?" I asked. The ghoul nodded.  
"Hesper has finally become strong enough to get her revenge on   
Arkham, the city which condemned her to death so many years ago.   
The power she gathered from your friend and you was the last thing   
she needed to complete her summoning." I felt dizzy.  
"What is she going to do?" I asked.  
"I'm not sure. But she said she'd flatten Arkham to the ground. If I'm   
not mistaken, she will summon her master, the Black Man and he will   
appear in one of his 999 other forms and wreak havoc on the city."   
When hearing that something screamed inside me.  
  
"The black man?" I asked. "What does he look like?"  
"Like the name says, completely black but not looking like an African,   
just his skin is black, absorbing all light." I felt a growing fear mix   
with the confusion and remorse I was feeling.  
"I met a black man in my dream," I said. "He gave me this." I pulled   
out the slim instrument I knew was still in my right pocket. The ghoul   
jerked backwards as if in surprise.  
  
"That was him!" Pickman said shrilly. "The Black Man, Nyarlathotep   
himself!" I just looked at the ghoul. "Your uncle challenged him and   
won on the roof of the world in the dreamlands," he explained.   
"Nyarlathotep may be out to call in some debt on his own through   
Hesper Payne." The ghoul turned his face to look at me sideways.   
"You're in deep caca now. I would definitely not want to be in your   
shoes. Nyarlathotep is the heart, soul and messenger of the gods. He   
doesn't take trickery lightly and especially not by a mere human being.   
Your uncle humiliated him. He will be taking revenge on any Carter   
coming to the dreamlands."  
  
"But he only talked to me and gave me the flute," I said. "He didn't do   
anything. The flute only called up some flying newts with light for   
eyes. They were peaceful." The ghoul frowned.  
"Strange. Maybe he's grown soft in his old days. I would have   
expected him to have tracked you down and killed you instantly the   
moment you entered dreamlands. No by the way, that's not   
Nyarlathotep's way. Of course he'd talk to you and see what kind of a   
man Carter's nephew is. Then when he's checked you out, he'll get his   
revenge, one way or another."  
  
"Much encouragement you are, " I muttered. It seemed as if every   
being in the other planes were out for my head.  
"I'm sorry," Pickman replied. "But there's no way I can get you out of   
this one, even if I tried. Nyarlathotep is way out of my league. We're   
not talking ghouls and lamp efts and zoogs here, this is The Old Ones,   
they are god like in their powers but malevolent and impossible to   
understand. Needless to say, they're not healthy for your kind, human   
beings or their cities."  
"So that's what Hesper Payne is planning to do," I asked, wanting to   
switch his attention to a slightly different subject. "Calling this black   
man to her and have him destroy the city of Arkham."  
  
"Most probably, yes. Or have him summon something for her."  
"How can I stop her? My powers are not strong enough to even bind   
her."  
"Honestly, I have no idea," Pickman said. "You have to figure that one   
out by yourself. But you have my word, if you need something done   
which the ghouls actually can assist you with, we'd be willing to help,   
for a small fee of course."  
"Of course," I muttered.  
"Call me if you need me." I nodded.   
"Thank you."   
  
The ghoul that was Richard Upton Pickman grinned, bade me goodbye   
and rose from his macabre seat. Then he retreated to the darkness of   
the line of trees behind the small glen in which we were sitting and   
was gone. I got to my feet, gathered my torch and rope and started on   
the long way home.  
  
  



	5. True Targets part 5

  
  
  
  
True Targets part 5  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I was in bed when the door banged. I looked at the clock on Almasy's   
bedstand, which I had turned towards my bed, one forty-three pm. The   
banging continued. Feeling groggy, I got up.   
"I'm coming!" I yelled. "Patience, please." I opened the door. A jumping   
Selphie Tilmitt was behind the door.  
"Squall, come quickly," she said agitatedly. "Rinoa has been hurt by a   
monstrous Seifer. Seifer told her it was you had turned him into a   
monster!" I looked at her trying to process the information. Tilmitt hit   
the air with her fists in impatience and frustration. "Is this true?" she   
asked. "Come on, Squall, let's go!" She pulled at my sleeve. I made   
some weak protests that I had to wash up a little before leaving, having   
fallen asleep in my clothes, but there was no stopping Tilmitt. We ran   
down the sun drenched red tiled stairs of the dormitory and out into the   
sunlight of Library Place.  
  
"Where is Caraway?" I asked Tilmitt as we hurried along.  
"At the emergency center, come on."  
"Where did she meet Almasy?"  
"He entered her room through the window last night. He was furious, he   
accused her of going with you. When she denied, he got furious, hit her   
and thrashed our room."  
"You were there too," I asked. Selphie grew red.  
"No, I was out with Irvine... to celebrate the finals," she stuttered. I   
nodded to signal I thought her private affairs was her business and had   
no intention of meddling with her life.  
"So it was Seifer who broke into your room that night too?" she asked. I   
looked at her. Tilmitt may have a bubbling and sometimes over   
enthusiastic personality, but she wasn't stupid.   
  
"Yes it was," I admitted reluctantly.  
"But why didn't you tell us?" she asked.   
"Let's tackle that later," I said. "I want talk with Rinoa first." The   
thought that Almasy had hurt someone innocent in this business because   
of his thirst for revenge made an icy rage rise in me. At the same time, I   
feared having to tell Almasy's friends and most probably Dean Kramer   
and Professor West what I had done. I wasn't sure if I could face that.   
Tilmitt nodded and hurried on.  
  
We crossed Library Place and walked into the warm corridor of the   
emergency center. Dr. Crowton met us in the waiting room.   
"How is she, Dr. Crowton?" Selphie asked with teary eyes. Dr. Crowton   
patted her shoulder.   
"She'll be fine. She's just a little sore. She'll be all right."   
"Can we see her?" I asked. Dr. Crowton nodded.   
"Go right in, there are other friends there. But don't tire her. I'll come   
and throw you out in about fifteen minutes."  
  
In the examination room, teaching assistant Trepe, Yie, Irvine and Zell   
were talking with Rinoa. Rinoa looked her usual upbeat self except that   
her left arm was in a sling. When Tilmitt and I entered the room, she   
looked up.  
  
"Squall!" she said. "I'm so glad you're here. I was afraid Seifer had..." I   
shook my head as I approached the bench she was sitting on.  
"No... no..," I muttered. "What did he do to you?" Rinoa smiled.  
"Don't worry, I'll be fine. He was just very angry. I have never seen   
him like that."  
"How did you know it was him?" Rinoa smiled again.  
"I would have recognized him no matter how changed he was. There   
was no doubt it was him. He has become a ghoul, hasn't he?" I looked   
down and nodded.  
"He's not human any more."  
"He seemed human. He was hurt and afraid."  
"How can you say that?" I asked. "He has become a monster. He hurt   
you."  
"But something in him is still human, or he wouldn't have been that   
fearful."   
  
I didn't reply.   
"Was it he who broke into the library?" she asked. I nodded.  
"Yes, it was. I think maybe Almasy was searching for information about   
his condition when I interrupted his search.""I knew it was him!" Dincht   
yelled behind me. "I knew it!"  
"Why didn't you say anything, Squall?" Trepe asked. I looked at her.  
"I informed Dean Kramer and Prof. West. At that time I didn't think it   
was necessary anyone else knew."  
"Is there anything we can do about it?" Trepe asked. "As far as I know, I   
can't recall ever having seen any reports of reversing a ghoul." Irvine   
shook his head.   
"I haven't seen any either and I did some reading up on ghouls last term.   
I don't think it's possible."  
"Are you sure?" Rinoa asked. "If there is even the slightest hope of   
curing him, we have to try."   
  
I looked down.  
"I had been hoping there was a way, but I don't know."  
"Poor Seifer," Selphie said.  
"He has his own people now. I met a ghoul in the cemetery this morning   
and he told me Seifer would be ok." Trepe looked sharply at me.  
"You went to the cemetery?" I nodded.  
"I thought Seifer would be there," I explained.   
"That's against the parapsychology maxims, that's interfering, Squall."  
"I know. I had to do it. I'm sorry."  
  
"It seems you have done more than that," Yie interjected. "Rinoa said   
Seifer told her you were responsible for his change. How can you   
explain that?"  
"Easy, Xu," Quistis said. "We don't know that yet. After all, Seifer   
could hardly have been himself when he attacked Rinoa."   
  
I didn't look at them, I just looked at Rinoa. Tears had begun forming in   
the corners of her eyes. I had an inkling of what she was feeling and it   
bothered me to no end. I had no idea how to reduce the suffering I had   
started. I realized I had miscalculated everything and done something   
inexcusable towards another human being out of selfish interest. There   
was only one way to right that. I had to redeem myself, if not for Almasy   
who would probably never be able to forgive me, then to his friends and   
compatriots and to myself and my teachers, one way or the other. I   
considered asking the others to leave to explain to Rinoa what had   
happened. She had a right to know. But I thought the better of it and   
decided to let Almasy's friends know too. They were welcome to judge   
me. The sooner the better and I could concentrate on getting Almasy   
back and dealing with whatever the witch was sending on us tonight.   
"I'm terribly sorry, Rinoa, Selphie, Quistis, everyone," I began. "I have   
done something inexcuseable and horrible. You are Almasy's friends so   
I'm teling you this as explanation for what I have done to him."   
  
I told them everything. How one person in each generation of my family   
through generations had attracted the unwanted and fatal attention of   
paranormal beings. How my uncle Randolph Carter was the first who   
had recognized a natural ability to work interdimensional patterns and   
travel to the other planes, which was most probably the reason for   
attracting paranormal beings in the first place and how he had been able   
to successfully cope with the attention of these beings because of his   
adventurer spirit and knowledge of the preternatural. How I knew I had   
been selected as the target for paranormal activity of my generation and   
had therefore read and studied everything my uncle and others had   
researched about the other planes to try and live with the paranormal   
activity that would come. I told them how I through studies of local   
history and family records had discovered Almasy was a similar herited   
target, but unaware of it. That my studies into the occult had attracted the   
attention of Hesper Payne and that I had used a deflect spell when I   
sensed her presence to avoid her dream traps. That this had caused her to   
become aware of Almasy's dream abilities instead and decide to target   
him first. I told them everything and finished by describing my last   
meeting with Almasy, the ghoul, Payne and the threat that was now   
closing in on Arkham.  
  
"Some story," Quistis muttered when I was finished.  
"Yes," Xu said. "I need to sit down for a minute."  
"My head is hurting," Selphie said.   
"Unbelievable," was Irvine's comment. After a moment's silence,   
Quistis suggested we go someplace to sit down to digest the information   
and think things over.  
"Will you be all right?" I asked, Rinoa, wondering what she made of the   
story. She nodded.   
"Yes I will. You go on. Maybe you can come back later and tell me what   
you find out."  
"We will, don't worry," Quistis said. Dr. Crowton entered the room.  
"Are we finished talking?" he asked. Irvine nodded.   
"We're leaving now. Thanks for letting us talk with Rinoa.  
"Splendid," Dr. Crowton said and saw us out of the examination room.  
  
In the White Hart, everyone ordered coffe or tea and we sat down at one   
of the window tables. I was happy we had arrived before the supper   
crowd and after the lunch crowd so the place was fairly empty.   
"Quite a story," Quistis said. "I'm not sure if I have heard of anything   
similar. We're all familiar with Dr. Carter's work, of course."  
"You do realize Dean Kramer has to be informed about this?" Xu asked.   
"About everything." I nodded.   
"I know. Especially now that we have a vengeful witch on our hands."  
"Whatever will she do?" Selphie asked.  
"Perhaps she's planning on sending thousands of ghouls on us," Irvine   
muttered.  
  
"Look," Zell said, shaking his head. "I can't believe you are so gullible.   
Look at what he's done! He's killed Seifer out of cowardice! Because of   
what he did, Seifer's not going to come back, ever!" Zell got to his feet   
and waved his fists in front of me. "I ought to give you a good beating   
right here and now!" A wave of shame washed over me.  
"Yes," Selphie said, her cheeks growing red. "He did to Seifer what he   
didn't want someone to do to him, attract him a monster!" I looked   
down. All the accusations I didn't want to hear now rushed at me. I had   
nothing to defend myself with, because it was all true.  
"I'm going to redeem myself," I stuttered. "You can believe that. We   
might not get Almasy back right now, but I will see to that it happens,   
somehow." Quistis patted my hand.  
  
"We know you will. It's all right." Turning to Zell, Quistis said:  
"Calm down, Zell. Seifer may be dead to us for now, but he isn't dead   
to himself. He's still alive as Rinoa can attest to. For all we know,   
Hesper Payne may have influenced Squall's mind long before he thought   
of activating the deflect spell, which she admitted did not work. She may   
have seen both of them long before Squall could sense her and set up her   
plan. We just don't know with these beings. They're malevolent and   
they would rather drive us crazy than simply just killing us, which they   
can do most of the time but just don't."  
  
Xu nodded.  
"They like to torture humans and make them do and experience things   
which will drive them mad. The best way of doing that is to make   
someone do something which goes against their conscience. That ceates   
a lot of guilt and self loathing which can easily be used to drive people   
insane. Don't point too harshly Selphie or you might get poked back.   
We're all in this together."  
"Well, I'm glad I'm not in your shoes, Squall," Zell said. "Seifer's going   
to have your head on a platter." There was a moment of uneasy silence.   
  
"What will happen with Seifer now?" Selphie asked more calmly.   
"He's taken in with the ghouls," I said. "They will teach him their ways,   
I assume. Other than that, I'm completely out of my depth." More   
uneasy silence. Irvine was the first to break it.  
  
"Speaking of depths. You said you had been on a dream ship twice, the   
last time talking to the Black Man, which the ghoul said he thought   
Payne would sic on us. Maybe you could go back to that dream and   
persuade him to not do as Payne says?" I shook my head.   
"Not very likely," I said. "These creatures are not human. I don't think   
they can be bargained with. It's all a question of power and who has the   
power to force the other."   
"Well," Zell said, "Maybe we have something he would want. We could   
trade that for Hesper's revenge." I jerked my head up.   
  
"That's it!" I said. "That's it! We have something to bargain with.   
Nyarlathotep, the Black Man, wants revenge on my uncle. I can talk with   
him, grant him his revenge. Pickman said Nyarlathotep would go to the   
next in line in Carter's family."  
"What will he do with you, then ?" Selphie asked. I shrugged.   
"I don't know, but at least it might avoid Arkham being flattened. I don't   
think we will get Almasy back, but Arkham will be safe. I have to undo   
some of the wrong I have done." Quistis nodded.  
"It might work, I have heard of other people dealing similarly with the   
other planes. They desire humans with natural paranormal abilities for   
some reason. But that will play you into the Black Man's hands. He'll   
have you right where he wants you. You will have become a real target   
then." I nodded.  
"I know. But I don't see any other solution." Xu nodded.  
  
"If you want to try go to sleep right now, I will inform Dean Kramer   
about what is happening and Quistis and I can arrange things for tonight.   
We don't know what to expect from Hesper Payne, but at least we can   
prepare as well as we can. The faculaty professors should know more   
about her and her methods than we do. We don't have much time so   
we'd better get going."  
"You inform the Dean, I'll take Squall back to the room and keep an eye   
on him as he sleeps and contacts the Black Man. Selphie can go and   
prepare her tricks and you and Xu can read up on what you need and   
prepare for tonight," Irvine suggested and rose from his seat. I looked at   
him.  
  
"Prepare her tricks?" I asked. "What can Selphie do against Hesper?"   
Zell looked at me and grinned. "There are more people here than you   
and Seifer being human targets for paranormal activity. We all are, more   
or less. That's why we are here." Xu nodded.  
"Dean Kramer knows, so we have all gotten a lot of support from him.   
That's why we have been sharing rooms and everything. We are all   
inherited targets." She smiled and looked at Quistis. My mind reeled.   
Maybe the others could understand what I had been feeling the last year   
since knowing the paranormal activity would start up after all?  
  
"So you know what it feels like to be a target?" I tried. Irvine put a hand   
on my shoulder.   
"Don't worry. We know. Being a target is scary. Many people have been   
driven mad in the past, because an insane target is easier to take over by   
the other beings. The only way you can try and fight being a target is to   
learn as much as possible about the other planes and become used to   
dealing with them."  
"It's scary at first," Selphie said, "but that's why we are here, to learn   
what we can and find out about the other planes so we can help others." I   
felt shaken by these news.   
"So maybe you won't hate me for what I did?" I asked not wanting to   
guess the reply.  
  
"We understand you were scared," Quistis said. "We know the fear of   
being a target."  
"Dean Kramer will maybe have to suspend you from school for a while,   
but I know he won't let you go," Xu said. "Not now. Don't be afraid."  
"Dean Kramer set up this program at the university after his wife became   
a target and went mad on her thirtieth birthday, ten years ago. He   
researched inherited targets and discovered they were usually hit in late   
adolescence or in the early twenties, and formed a program to help   
young targets."   
"We won't hate you, we're together in this, we have to stick together,"   
Selphie said. Irvine brought his fists together.   
"That's right!" he said impassioned. "We're strong because we're not   
single targets any more, we can pool our forces to resist the other planes.   
We'll fight Hesper Payne and her monster. Let's do it."  
  
While Quistis, Xu and Selphie went to inform Dean Kramer and prepare   
for the night's attack, Irvine and Zell walked me back to the dorms. As   
we climbed the stairs to third floor, Irvine grinned at me and said:  
"Heh heh, let's see if we can put you to sleep now."  
"No problem," Zell said. "I had to buy some opium drops last semester   
because of a tooth which hurt terribly. Take a few of them in some   
water and you'll sleep like a baby."  
"I never thought you were... targets too," I said. I wondered how much   
would have been different if I had known I wasn't alone.   
"Sometimes things just happen," Irvine said. "You're not alone now at   
least.  
  
In Irvine's bed, I downed half a glass of water with three drops of Zell's   
opim tincture. The mixture tasted bitterly. The window and the curtains   
had been closed. A midday darkness, more shadows than night,   
dominated the room.   
"So when should we wake you up," Irvine asked sitting on the opposite   
bed. "When you start drowning again?" He grinned at me, obviously   
remembering the scene in the library. I shook my head.  
"I didn't drown last time because I was prepared for what happened.   
Wake me when you see my hair is wet and I'm really cold. That means   
I'm off the boat and in the sea."  
"Sure thing, when your hair is wet and you're cold. Got it." At the other   
end of the room, Zell switched off the overhead light.   
"How long time do you assume it will take before that happens?" he   
asked. "So we can keep an eye on the clock."  
"I don't know. Time seems to stand still in there, but the other times I   
noticed I was never asleep for long. I think I need to fall asleep first and   
that can take some time. But maybe not more than fifteen minutes after   
I'm really gone." Irvine nodded.  
"Got it. We'll keep watch. You go to sleep. And good luck."  
"Thanks," I said and closed my eyes.   
  
I hadn't expected to fall asleep, but the tincture must have been stronger   
than I thought. Soon, the sound of creaking wood reached my ears,   
signaling I was back at the ship with the lemon colored sails.   
  
The same events as previously happened. I conversed with the other   
passengers, was informed that the ship was bound for the city of Leng. I   
managed to confirm that most of the other passengers were indeed   
merchants and tradesmen on their way to Leng to sell various goods and   
buy Leng's speciality, rare gems and crystals. The days went slowly by.   
As in the other dreams, time didn't seem to matter and I had no way of   
judging how many days passed from entering the dream. But something   
was changed. The Black Man did not appear like last time, although all   
the other passengers I could remember were there. Consequently, I   
received no eft flute and saw no lamp efts in the evenings, despite being   
on the lookout for them.   
  
Many days I wondered what was happening in the waking world and at   
those times, I feared that my compatriots hadn't managed to inform the   
faculty about Payne and that something bad had happened. As the days   
went on, I found myself more and more agitated and impatient. I began   
pacing the deck, worrying about what was going on in the real world,   
worrying why the Dark Man wasn't showing and worrying about   
whether I had to stay in the dream world forever. The trip seemed to   
have lasted three times as long as the previous ones. I waited for a storm   
that never came. The sky was an eternal blue and the ocean flat as a   
mirror.   
  
After a while, the agitated worry turned to dull acceptance. I did nothing   
but lay in my bunk in the passenger's quarters and stare into the bunk   
above. I had lost all hope of seeing my friends, the university and my   
family again. I was trapped in a dream which now had turned into a   
nightmare of boredom. Some of my fellow passengers tried to cheer me   
up, but I chased them away with harsh words and belief that no one   
could understand my plight. I became more and more convinced the   
dream would continue in all eternity. Then one day the thought hit me   
through the haze of depression and dejection I was in: Irvine and Zell   
had promised to wake me up when my hair got wet and my skin turned   
cold. That meant in order to be woken up, I had to do something which   
got me cold and wet. There was no water except for drinking water on   
board and I assumed simply getting water in my face wouldn't work. It   
would have to be the ocean. The more I thought about it, the better the   
idea seemed. If something had gone wrong on the other side, I would   
rather return to the waking world and perish with my friends than sit   
forever on a dream ship never knowing what happened.   
  
One afternoon, I had made my decision. I didn't care, it was either the   
ocean and drowning or waking up and find out what happened. I ran out   
onto the deck and climbed over the railing. Before anyone could stop   
me, I had thrown myself into the water. To prevent anyone from seeing   
me and jumping after, I immediately dove and hoped I would begin to   
sink quickly.   
  
The descent was slow, much slower than last time. I was worried I had   
made a foolish mistake and would not be able to return to the waking   
world without the right sequence of events and that I would drown for   
real inside the dream. But as the ocean started becoming dark, a face   
floated in front of my vision.  
  
"No, no, jumping overboard before the storm is cheating."  
"Nyarlathotep," I said. The black face smiled and revealed a row of   
perfect, small white teeth.   
"At your service Mr. Carter. It is boundlessly good to see you again.   
What can I do you for this time ?"  
"Trade me for whatever Hesper Payne is sending to Arkham. I know you   
can stop her." The Black Man looked at me.  
"Mmmm, I think maybe you have try better than that."  
"What do you want?" I asked.  
"Straight to the point, aren't we?" the Black Man leered. "Well, let me   
see. I want you, not you of course, but your powers... and those of your   
friends. The six children you as you say "hang out with". That'll be good   
for the insult and injury your uncle brought me."   
  
I shook my head. "I can't do that and you know it."  
"Yes, that's why I want you to do it."  
"No, whatever else you can take from me, but I can't give you anyone   
else. I have already given you one person."  
"Aah yes, thank you for reminding me. I will deal with him at a later   
moment. I'm letting him get used to his life as a ghoul. For now."   
Despairing, I looked at him.  
"Why?" I asked. "Why? None of us has ever done you or your kind   
anything. What have we done to have to be driven mad by you?" The   
Black Man smiled, this time revealing a mouthful of yellow fangs.  
  
"Why? The universe is not fair. Human beings are our prey. That's   
why." He threw his head back and laughed. Then he looked at me, his   
eyes wide and black. "Ponder on the meaninglessness of existence, Mr.   
Carter and go mad in the process. Listen to what I have to say, the   
universe is not fair. You human beings are nothing in the grand scheme   
of things."  
"Which you know all about, I presume," I said, trying to push the   
sensation of hopelessness his words instilled in me away. The Black   
Man chuckled.   
"Yes I can assure you, I'm more familiar with the grand scheme than any   
of you will ever be."  
"There are things you and your kind will never be able to take from   
humans as much as you ever try," I protested, hoping my own words   
would boost my morale.   
"Interesting," he smiled. "And what is that, if I may ask?"  
"Love, friendship, togetherness," I replied, hoping I sounded more   
confident than I felt. The black man poked me in the chest. It felt as if   
my heart would to stop at his ice cold touch.  
  
"A true believer I understand," he smirked. "And from someone who   
recently sold his room mate to the devil because he didn't want to go   
first. Well, looks like your attempts at keeping yourself human failed and   
even speeded up your own demise. Ironic, is it not?" The black man   
grinned again. "I have kept my eyes on you. You may be Carter's   
nephew but you are not him. But you'll make a good substitute. It'll be   
fun torturing you for the rest of eternity. You shall make a good quarry."   
I had nothing to say. He was right. I had lost. In my attempt at delaying   
becoming a true target, I had brought one person over the edge and only   
brought myself into the hands of the hunters. I had used the same   
methods of coercion of the unsuspecting and innocent which they did,   
making me as much of a monster as they were. I bowed my head in   
shame.   
  
"That's better," the Black Man said. "Now we're getting somewhere."   
He bowed down and whispered in my ear.   
"You're down now, but I've always had high hopes for you. You're   
strong but stupid. I'll get you back up again when you've said goodbye   
to your pointless notions of love and friendship and joined me instead."   
He made a pause as I fell down into utter despondency and hopelessness,   
the hopelessness I had felt ever since realizing I was my family's   
generation's target. There was no way out for me but to join those who   
were hunting me. That was where I belonged. I was not human and   
never had been.   
  
In his private notes, my uncle had hypothesized that a merging between   
humans and some other races had happened because the Gods deemed   
these hybrids stronger and more flexible material, better servants for   
their needs. The bloodlines were the targets and the investment in them   
explained why they were hunted so intensely by the other side. These   
children were the vanguard of a force which would enslave all of   
humanity on behalf of the beings in the other planes when the time came.   
But my uncle had deemed these theories too radical even for the   
paranormal community and too dangerous to be studied by anyone else   
and he never published and apparently never mentioned them to anyone   
except for his private journal, which I had inherited from him. Now these   
facts rang through my mind. I was lost and had been since birth.   
  
"Poor boy," The Black Man chuckled above me. "I know what you're   
thinking and you're absolutely right. There is no use in resisting. Come   
home and everything will be good again. Come with me." I looked up at   
him.  
"Please let me do one thing for my friends," I asked. "Let me banish   
Payne's scourge on Arkham so I'll know my friends are safe. Then I'll   
come with you." The Black Man smiled.  
"Very well. Since it will be so sweet having Mr. Carter's next of kin at   
my command, I shall grant you your wish. Look at this pattern." A   
pattern in the shape of a pentagram with a flaming eye in the middle   
burned before my eyes. "Memorize the frequency and range with care,"   
The Black Man said. "This mark will banish everything and anything   
Hesper will send in your way. With your modern inventions, let me   
suggest you etch the mark in some bullets and use them against Hesper's   
madness. She is bound to summon something big enough for even your   
friend Irvine to hit with his gun." I nodded.   
"I will remember it," I said. "Thank you." The Black Man nodded and   
smiled.  
"Go back and perform your useless magic. I will come for you when it is   
over."  
  
The cold water melted away. I fell into dark space...  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. True Targets part 6 of 6

True Targets part 6 of 6   
  
  
  
  
  
... and awoke to total chaos. Wind was howling in my ears. My hair   
and face was wet. I opened my eyes. I was covered with glass shards.   
The room was dark as if it were in the middle of the night. The   
window was broken and a storm was sending showers of cold rain in   
gusts through the window and across the room.   
  
Irvine was suddenly in front of me.   
"Did you get anything?" he yelled at me over the noise of the   
wind.   
"Yes!" I replied. "I received a pattern to banish Payne's   
monster. A high frequency wide range pattern. Perfect for what we   
need to do!" I could not describe how good it was to see Irvine again.   
It didn't matter a storm was raging and we had a monster on our hands.   
I was out of the dream world and would be able stay with my friends   
for a while longer.   
  
Zell entered the room. Beind him the door banged on its hinges in the   
air pressure from the broken window.   
"Where were you?" Zell yelled. "We waited and waited and   
you never turned wet nor cold. We had to move you when the storm   
began!" A lightning illuminated the room with the intensity of the flash   
of a welder's arc.   
"We couldn't wake you!" Irvine yelled, his hair flying in the   
wind blasting in from the broken window. "I think the opium drops   
were too strong!"   
"Nevermind!" I yelled back. "I got the pattern, let's make some   
bullets to hit Payne's thing with before it gets here!"   
  
"It's here already!" Zell yelled. "The storm started an hour ago   
straight out of the blue. I just got word from Nida that an enormous   
monster has been spotted in the outskirts of town!"   
"Where?" I asked.   
"At Miscatonic River, on the other side. But the monster's   
huge and moves fast. We have to hurry up!"   
"What is it?" Irvine asked.   
"I don't know. Nida just said it was huge, huge, larger than a   
circus tent."   
"Where are the others?" I asked.   
"Outside in front of the emergency center. They're preparing   
patterns and light for the monster."   
"Let's start inscribing the bullets!" I yelled. "Zell can run to the   
others with a copy of the pattern so they can use it too."   
"Good idea!" Irvine yelled. "Let me find my rounds and   
something to carve with.."   
  
I hastily drew the pattern of the fiery eyed pentagram on a sheet of   
damp paper Zell handed me. I instructed him with some details about   
its frequency and range to make sure no changes were made in it. The   
pattern contained some anomalies and unusual sub patterns which   
could easily be mistaken as faulty rendition. But I sensed that it was   
these superficial contradictions which gave the pattern its potency and   
that they must not be changed by anyone copying the pattern. When I   
had finished the instructions, Zell ran off to share it with the others   
outside.   
  
Then Irvine and I went to the task of using a pen knife and a screw   
driver to scratch the pattern into his rifle bullets. We had made twelve   
when Zell came running back to the room.   
"Time to go, guys!" he yelled. "The monster is closing in on   
the town center. Quistis says you guys are to climb the bell tower to   
shoot at the monster from there, in the direction of the river. The rest   
of us will use the pattern to drive the monster towards you. I gotta run,   
we have some distance to drive."   
"Got it!" Irvine yelled. "Come on Squall, let's go. We can   
make more bullets at the belltower." Irvine took his rifle bag and I   
grabbed the rest of the gear and out we went to fetch Irvine's car.   
  
During the drive through Arkham, we saw that shops had closed up   
because of the storm and there were no people to be seen on the streets.   
The wind pushed and pulled on the car despite Irvine's smooth and fast   
handling. The wipers went full speed, nevertheless it was difficult to   
see through the amount of water hitting the windshield.   
"This is something," Irvine said as he navigated the car past a   
tree which had fallen into the road. "We'd better stop Payne and this   
monster before the storm flattens the entire city." I nodded. Irvine   
made a quick glance at me.   
"What in all hells are you doing mate? You're bleeding."   
"Preparations," I muttered. "If things go as I expect, this will be   
most useful and necessary." Irvine shot me a "you're insane" glance   
but said nothing and turned back to concentrate on bringing us as close   
to the bell tower as possible.   
  
While climbing the bell tower, faint high pitched shrieks could be   
heard between the volleys of thunder from outside.   
"What the hell is that?" Irvine muttered and set his jaw.   
"Sounds like a bloody fury!" I replied. "We're bound to get a   
better view from the roof!" Not wasting more breath trying to yell over   
the noise of the thunder and the wind, we continued. At the top of the   
bell tower was the clock gears and bells.   
"Mind your ears," Irvine said. "It might start ringing any   
minute. We don't want to be inside here when that happens." He slung   
the rifle bag over his right shoulder and put his hands over his ears. I   
did the same.   
  
We hurried past the gears. At the top of the tower was a hatch that   
allowed access to the bell tower roof. It was from here mechanics slid   
down on ropes to adjust the hands on the clock's face when that was   
needed. I slid the bolt aside, opened the trapdoor and looked out. The   
roof was broad and slanting gently enough to be safe to stand on. I   
climbed out, put the bag down and reached for the rifle bag Irvine   
handed me. Then Irvine climbed through the trapdoor. We both   
crawled to the roof's edge. The wind was too strong to be standing   
upright on the roof. Irvine took the rifle bag and laid down on his   
belly. Then he opened the bag and began loading the rifle with one of   
the clips we had prepared. I peered out into the darkness. The high   
pitched shrieking could be heard together with another distant sound.   
That of crumbling wooden structures and falling trees.   
  
Across rooftops slick with rain, an unnerving sight appeared. Trees and   
material was thrown up into the air while the hight pitched wail   
continued. The cloud of material tumbling into the air moved in an   
horizontal direction, it was the monster walking through town.   
"It's coming closer!" Irvine yelled. The high pitched sound was   
now clearly audible, even with the near continuous thunder clashes and   
constant howl of the wind. I nodded.   
"We'd better prepare!" I yelled. "We don't know which street   
they'll come along!" Irvine nodded.   
"I'm ready! Just pass me the clips when I ask for them. If the   
pattern's as strong as it looks, it should do the job of finishing the   
monster off. If not, we have done our best. Then we'll just have to   
improvise! How many have we got?"   
"Twelve!" I yelled. "Make more?" Irvine shook his head.   
"No time! Too dark here as well. Better make every shot count!   
Too bad we've just got one rifle."   
"I'm not a shot!" I yelled back. "I'll leave it to you!" Through   
the rain and darkness Irvine grinned and gave me the thumbs up. We   
waited in silence.   
  
I scanned the skyline. The moving mayhem was coming closer.   
"Looks like the others are succeeding in driving the monster   
close!" Irvine commented.   
"There it is!" I yelled, spotting movement two streets away   
over the rooftops. Something huge and black and amorphous looking   
was visible over the rooftop against the night sky. It was the back of   
something.   
"God, what a stench!" Irvine yelled and wrinkled his nose in   
disgust. "Could kill a man at twenty paces!" The wind carried the   
smell of rotten eggs and putrid acidic hot springs. When the wind blew   
towards us the stench was overpowering, making us gag. The wailing   
was now almost as loud as the thunder clashes and making it difficult   
to hear each other even at yelling volume.   
  
"It'll be visible in the cross street!" I pointed and looked at   
Irvine to see if he spotted the intersection two cross streets down from   
us, visible through another intersection.   
"Stand by with clips!" Irvine yelled. "I'm ready to go, I'll shoot   
as soon as it appears!" I nodded and grabbed a clip from the open bag   
and held it under my jacket to protect it from the rain. Irvine opened   
his bag, took the rifle out and put it beneath his long coat. We waited   
while the shrieks of the monster filled the air and the sodium flashes of   
lightning turned the night white then black in rapid sequence.   
  
Suddenly, a lumbering nightmarish form appeared in the cross street   
thirty yards below and in front of us. The monster had no head or legs,   
it was simply a huge blotch of an amorphous shifting grey mass. From   
the center ropy tentacles were shot out and usurped back into the main   
body for locomotion. The central mass was more than twenty yards   
across and more than four stories in height. In direct line of sight, the   
stench coming from it was choking. Irvine brought the rifle out from   
his coat, took aim and fired three shots in rapid succession, his thumb   
working the rifle bolt with fluid grace. The empty shells flew out of the   
chamber in a tight arc as he emptied the clip. The noise of the monster   
nearly drowned out the sound of the shots. I held out the next clip for   
Irvine. Irvine took it and aimed again.   
  
This time he fired two shots before yelling:   
"Is it working?" Each time the shots hit the monster, it stopped   
in its lumbering tracks   
and moved spasmodically as if it weren't sure what to do. It was   
apparent the inscribed bullets affected the monster, but it wasn't   
working as we expected. Even though they hit the monster, they did   
not banish it.   
  
"Try more!" I yelled. Irvine reloaded and fired two more shots. The   
monster disappeared out of view as it lumbered behind the street   
corner across the intersection. Irvine looked at me.   
"Just one more clip left, it has to work!" he yelled. "Or this monster   
will flatten the town!" The monster had already rampaged several   
houses on its way. It didn't seem as if it would leave voluntarily before   
the town was destroyed. In addition to summoning the thing from   
whatever hell it came from, Hesper Payne must have put it under a   
bind spell, which meant it wouldn't leave unless the command it had   
been given in the bind spell had been carried out or it was killed.   
  
"The monster looks like it can feel them, but they only stop it   
for a minute," I yelled. seems like it's only shrugging them off."   
"Non earthly material!" Irvine replied. "It doesn't have flesh   
like we do. The monster probably has to be hit with several patterns at   
the same time for the pattern to take effect. Takes some time you   
know!" I nodded.   
"It looks as if the others are directing the monster to this street,"   
I shouted. "I'm gonna try something when they get close enough. Hold   
the fire till then!" Irvine nodded.   
  
The monster reappeared behind a house which turned to rubble as the   
monster shifted its bulk across it. Clouds of dust rose from the building   
it had demolished as it slid out onto the street. A small crowd of people   
could be seen following but keeping their distance from the mindless   
monster.   
  
Slowly and under a loud cacophony of high pitched noise and thunder   
clashes, the monster lumbered its way up the street towards the bell   
tower. I signaled Irvine to get ready to fire again. The monster moved   
within ten yards of the bell tower. A yell could be heard through the   
storm, a magically amplified voice.   
"Get out of there guys!" It was Dean Kramer. "The monster is   
heading straight at you. Evacuate now!" I looked at Irvine.   
"You go!" I yelled. "I will jump down on the monster with the   
rounds and hold them to give the pattern time to reach maximum   
frequeny before the monster can eject them from it's body. It's our last   
hope."   
"I'm emptying this clip and then I'm gone!" Irvine yelled.   
"You take the last clip! Remember there's only two rounds in it!"   
"That will do!" I shouted.   
"You sure you want to do this?" I nodded. Irvine nodded back   
and turned towards the street below us. He emptied the clip into the   
approaching monster. As the rounds hit it, they flared up with a bright   
yellow light and the monster shook. Then he put the last clip inside the   
rifle and handed it to me.   
  
I rose to my knees and Irvine gave me a quick hug.   
"Godspeed my friend! See you afterwards!" Then he crawled   
towards the hatch and   
disappeared into it. I waited until the shaking and lumbering body of   
the monster seemed to be directly beneath the bell tower. I took aim, I   
had to land on top of it, landing next to it would be useless. I clutched   
the rifle with the patterned rounds inside and rose to my feet.   
  
The Black Man was there, standing tall in the shearing wind and rain.   
"Not leaving so soon are you?" he asked mockingly.   
"You knew!" I yelled through the rain. "You knew the bullets   
wouldn't work, they would be ejected by the monster! You tricked me.   
You said I would get to banish it, bastard!" The Black Man wagged his   
index finger at me.   
"Now, now, flattery will get you nowhere." His voice was   
clearly audible through the wind even if he didn't raise it. His teeth   
shone white in the moving darkness that was his face.   
"Stand back!" I yelled "I'm going to take the monster out with   
or without your help!"   
"I don't think so," he replied. He waves his right hand and the   
rifle and the clip inside it disintegrated. The rifle dismantled in my   
hands and rifle parts, screws and rounds clattered down onto the   
slanting roof and rolled over the edge into the darkness beyond.   
  
I looked at the small and completely useless metal spring still sitting in   
my hand and quickly dropped it. Then I stretched out my left hand to   
the Black Man, palm facing him, to let him take in the pentagram   
pattern I had cut into it.   
"Last call is still mine!" I yelled and I lunged forward to pull   
him with me as I jumped from the tower. The Black Man twisted like a   
fish in my hands and gave a deafening shriek of rage even louder and   
more high pitched than the monster below, but I held onto him with all   
my strength as we fell through the storm. Landing on the monster felt   
like landing on a giant stinking cushion, it was soft but profoundly   
disgusting. I heard a loud ripping noise, saw a flash of bright light and   
then everything went black.   
  
When I woke up, the dark clouds of the preternatural storm had broken   
apart, revealing the same serene blue which had dominated the month   
behind it. Rubble and glass shards from the rampaged buildings were   
still strewn across the street. Above me Dean Kramer came into view.   
"Welcome back, Squall," he said, smiling down at me. "How   
do you feel?" I sniffed.   
"Stinky, " I whispered. My body felt like it had been through a   
particularly rough binge. I didn't want to move in case I had to throw   
up. The world had an uncomfortable spin I thought I recognized from   
the concussion a few days back. I seemed to be covered with slime   
from the monster and it stunk. "Is it over?" I asked. Dean Kramer   
nodded.   
  
"We're just waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The monster   
blew up and you were on top of it. I think you're having concussion   
again. You seem to be ok otherwise."   
"Irvine?" I asked. Irvine came into view.   
"Here. Made it out of the tower no problem. Good job, chap.   
We got rid of the monster."   
  
"The others?"   
"They're all fine, tired but fine."   
"The Black Man?" I asked. Kramer frowned.   
"So that was him. He disappeared too. Right after the monster   
blew up, another monster appeared from inside the first, a black   
nightmare with a long tentacle sticking out of its face, giving us all a   
good scare. But it flew into the sky and never came back. A law of his   
kind, he was banished in one form and had no other choice but to take   
his leave. Then we found you. You must have landed right on top of   
the thing."   
"Ok," I whispered and closed my eyes. I couldn't believe it. We   
had won. The monster was gone and the Black Man was gone, for   
now. My friends had all survived the ordeal. I was happy and relieved   
and very tired.   
  
A piping noise I recognized reached my ears. I opened my eyes. In the   
air above us, five lamp efts danced their graceful circling patterns on   
the mild breeze. They shone their bright eyes while taking in the small   
crowd and played their colored flank lights in rhythm with their happy   
song. People laughed and pointed at the dancing lamp efts, which were   
obviously enjoying the attention. One of the lamp efts circled me while   
it fluted something that sounded like "Car-etr, car-etr."   
"Friends of yours?" Dean Kramer asked. I nodded.   
"From the dreamlands. They're mistaking me for my uncle."   
  
"Not unlikely," Kramer smiled. "Lamp efts are loyal   
companions with good memory. They remember anyone who responds   
with happiness to them and treats them well. Dr. Carter must have kept   
some on his travels." I smiled. Despite the concussion, I felt better than   
I had in a long time. I knew everything would be all right since I   
wasn't alone any more.   
Dean Kramer stood and looked at the small crowd facing us.   
"Ok everyone," he said. "It's been a long day, but we have   
done good work. Let's go home and rest up. Then it's time for a big   
party!"


End file.
